


Of Faeries and Angels

by AerisLei



Category: Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy - Cassandra Clare, The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Mortal Instruments - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/F, Faeries - Freeform, Gen, Nephilim, OC Character or two, Possible Spoilers, Shadowhunters - Freeform, family stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-08-28 14:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8450491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AerisLei/pseuds/AerisLei
Summary: Redoing my Helen Blackthorn centric fic~ as in starting from the beginning and trying again. Lots of new text has been added, I'm doing my best not to look at the old stuff at all to be honest. It's been written as part of NaNoWriMo and as I get "chapters" done I'll post them for viewing.We're starting in childhood and moving forward from there. Look forward to it.





	1. La Belle Dame Sans Merci

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [[Retired] Of Faeries and Angels](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8270975) by [AerisLei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AerisLei/pseuds/AerisLei). 



> So if you see any major issues please, please let me know. I'd love to make any corrections. Now I know this will go slightly AU and I'm cool with that, but I mean major writing issues, things you'd like to see - things you don't like, things you do like. Just, anything really. 
> 
> First chapter's title "La Belle Dame Sans Merci" comes from a Poem that Andrew Blackthorn supposedly read to his faerie children often, to the point of more-or-less making them memorize it. It's a ballad by John Keats. Title is roughly "The Beautiful Lady without Mercy".

The Faerie princess was tall and fair - taller than most human men at just over six feet tall. Her build though was fine boned and slender. She moved like a whisper of wind between the trees. Solid and surefooted and yet nearly silent. The woman moved with the practiced grace of a predator, a cat perhaps. She stilled at the center of the room, silken white gold hair cascading about her as sharp green eyes swept across the room.  
  
Nerissa found herself studying the children, apparently unsure of how she felt. Andrew was gone, and with his absence had come a strange lingering discomfort in her heart. She had never really felt that sting, that sting of loss. But he was gone, gone away from Underhill. Her Andrew was gone - gone home with his brother, and he was never coming back. Nerissa herself had made sure of that  
  
A Faerie couldn't lie, but she could use magic. And with that magic she had implanted untruths, masking reality behind gauzy veils of illusion. Someone intent upon breaking her spells could probably uncover the truth beneath - but truly who would bother? He was returned home, claiming a believable story of being enchanted by a Faerie Princess. No one would seek to find out if there was anything beneath that illusion because of course that was what had happened.  
  
Their precious Nephilim boy hadn't fallen in love with a Gentry Faerie. Hadn't pledged himself to her. Hadn't heard her say over and over again that she loved him and only him. Faeries couldn't lie, but humans could, Nephilim could. And so this was her gift, she let him go with softened memories that would keep him from longing for her presence. Memories that would convince him that he had been held against his will, that he had hated every minute of it.  
  
But this was also her price, her punishment. For she had loved him, and she would miss him with an ache in her heart that she did not understand, for why should a Gentry Faerie long after a mortal man? And if she lusted after him so, why had she let him go?  
  
And yet there were these children. These children that were a reminder of what had been, of what might have been. Lovely children that would strengthen Seelie bloodlines - she had done well. The queen would be pleased with the children. Half-bloods did not weaken the bloodlines much, truly. Else wise changelings would have been the death of Faerie lines ages ago. But such was not the truth.  
  
A girl and a boy. Helen and Mark, Andrew had called them. Helen Aurelia and Mark Anthony. He'd told her the stories behind the names, as if she hadn't known. As if she had not more time to learn and understand than he did. But Nerissa had let him. Andrew had glowed with such passion as he spoke. They were not names she would have chosen, but they were the names he had given the children, and because of that, those were the names that Nerissa would keep for them.  
  
At least until they were old enough to decide they wanted to be called something else, something that blended better with the court.  
  
But for now, they were young, the girl was hardly into toddler hood and the boy... the boy was an infant. And they had their fathers eyes. It was that thought that caused her to turn away from the children lain in cradles.  
  
To turn away from them and stand facing the door. For a moment Nerissa considered leaving right then, leaving them alone to be found by one of her mother's handmaidens. They would raise the children, no harm would come to either infant. And yet as she began to move just that, a fierce flare of something sparked inside of her. No, that wouldn't work at all.  
  
She would raise them. But not here. Not in the Seelie Queen's court. Not where Hunters were occasionally entertained and Knights came and went. She would raise the children away from all this, at least for a little while. Until the taste of Andrew no longer lingered on her lips and the sound of his voice didn't linger in her ears. She would take the children where their father had never touched, and maybe, just maybe, things would go back to the way they were supposed to be.

* * *

  
  
Yes, this place would do nicely, Nerissa thought to herself. It was a reasonably sized cave that was a bit of a way from the Seelie court, but far, far from the Unseelie entrance. She was still safely within the Summer Queen's territory. Still safely protected by those who would give anything to protect a Gentry princess and her get, half-blooded or not.  
  
A carpet of moss coated the floor of the cave. There was a main chamber that was rather large, and smaller chambers that would suit well as bedrooms for herself and the children. The children. Her children. His children. ... Their children, her mind settled on, refusing to skirt away from that affirmation. The children had come from both of them, and no amount of sting would allow Nerissa to deny that.  
  
It took Nerissa a little time to shape the caverns exactly as she wanted them. It took her much less time to set the wards that would prevent anyone from entering the cavern without her knowing - and a second layer in preparation for the day that Helen inevitably decided to attempt to wander out into the glade.  
  
The glade itself was ringed by trees - and it was in that ring of trees that she carefully wove more spells. Confusion wards that would keep the weakest of the Seelie court from entering without disrupting the fauna. And then, more importantly, the leave-me-alone wards that would indicate to anyone strong enough to bypass the confusion wards. A carefully woven spell that said, I am here, I am alive, I have lain claim to this space. Begone from it, and leave me in peace.  
  
It would not chase everyone away, she knew. There may be some who insisted upon seeing her despite the wards that made it clear she wished to see no one. But Nerissa would at least warn them, and the wards made it clear that she would defend what she believed to be her territory if she had to do it. It would not be Nerissa's first choice, but if she had to defend herself, defend her silent peaceful space, she would do it.  
  
Yes, Nerissa was proud of her work by the time she reentered the cavern to ensure the children were still sleeping where she'd left them. Well, Helen wasn't. She was awake and alert, watching Nerissa as the woman entered her daughter's room. Well, alright then.  
  
Nerissa lifted the girl from her cradle absently, carrying the little one on her hip into the main room of the cavern that was more-or-less to be their home. Nerissa found herself humming quietly as she moved through the space. After a bit she set the girl down and stepped back a bit, watching the toddler as she flopped onto her butt right where she was.  
  
Well, walking would come in time, Nerissa knew. She wasn't particularly in a rush for little Helen to be properly getting into everything. Not that there was a lot to get into here, Nerissa reasoned. It was a good space to learn in. Soft moss to cushion the falls, and only a little that she could probably get into trouble pulling on.  
  
It was a little plain, but Nerissa could fix that in time. This place was just for now anyway, she told herself.  
  


* * *

  
  
Nerissa easily lost track of the days here in Faerie. It was hard not to, really. Sure, she could mark them if she wished, but it hardly mattered. Not enough to bother with. Helen had grown, was still growing rapidly as children did. She was still a toddler, and had yet to speak her first words. Nerissa knew it would come in time.  
  
The toddler was out in the glade with Nerissa today, while Mark slept in his cradle inside. Nerissa would hear him if he awoke and needed her - in the mean time, watching the little girl explore the soft grass within the ring of trees was amusing.  
  
Helen was giggling and following a winged insect - a dragonfly, this time - around the safe circle. Nerissa found herself struck by the sight for just a moment, has Helen laid down on the grass, kicking her legs back and forth, extending one hand towards the jewel-winged dragonfly, which inexplicably landed on her outstretched fingers.  
  
Helen's own white gold curls spilled across her back and shoulders as she lay their, in stark contrast with the deep green of the grass and the black body of the dragonfly. The wings though, the wings were a gorgeous blue-green, almost the same shade as the little girl's eyes - the color of the sea, deep beneath the surface. Andrew's eyes, Nerissa was reminded.  
  
It was then that Nerissa heard it, sensed it. The approach of someone else to her quiet glade. Nerissa withdrew a little from Helen, who didn't seem to notice that she had gone. Nerissa stood at the very edge of the clearing, waiting for the approach.  
  
It wasn't long before he slipped through the last of the wards to join her at the edge of the glade. He was tall - just a bit taller than she was. He had the same white-gold hair as she did, though it was streaked through with scarlet - he seemed to like that contrast between white and red. She'd never commented on it. His eyes were a bright blue - not teal as Andrew's had been - but the color of the sky above at noon.  
  
The markings on his skin that made him what he was made him appear feral. A Seelie knight, but also, her son. One whom she had borne into this world long before she met Andrew. "You know..." Nerissa started, shaking her head slightly at him. "I thought the spells were clear enough."  
  
"It has been moons since I saw you last." His tone held a brush of accusation in it. "I began to wonder if the little ones had damaged you."  
  
Nerissa's own eyes narrowed slightly. "What are moons when you live centuries?" Her tone was cool. "I've been raising my little ones and I made it clear I didn't want to be disturbed."  
  
"Did you not miss me, mother?" He sounded disappointed. "Besides they will never learn of the court if you isolate them."  
  
"They are safe here. I will introduce them to the court when it is time. They're babies, Faolan." Her voice was cool, but very even toned. "The queen doesn't care for babies anyway. She is pleased enough to know they exist."  
  
"You did not raise me away from the court." A pause. "And you evaded the question."  
  
"Of course I missed you." Nerissa backtracked, sounding suddenly tired. "But you were different. You were not half-nephilim. You always belonged to the court."  
  
"They are your children, are they not? They belong to the court as well, mother. Unless you intend to keep them as pets..."  
  
The glower she fixed him with made it clear that Nerissa did not find that as funny as he had. "I wanted a change of scenery, besides Helen enjoys running around the glade, and I prefer her doing so where I know she's going to entangle herself in a revel or something. They're young. It's nice to have some peace with them."  
  
"Do you miss him so sorely?" Faolan seemed to see through the veil of her words too easily.  
"Sometimes." Nerissa allowed, impatiently. "But it does not change the truth of what I said."  
  
Faolan shook his head. "You shouldn't bleed over a mortal man."  
"Should or should not hardly matters." Nerissa's voice held a bitter amusement. "For bleed I do. Begone Faolan, let me alone."  
  
"I only-"  
"Please, just leave." Her voice was firm. "Come to me at the new moon, we will speak then. I need to care for my little ones."  
  
She turned away from him, clearly forcing the dismissal. Nerissa heard him leave - and only then did she return to Helen's side.  
  
The girl was laying in the grass where Nerissa had left her, the dragonfly was still beating its wings, settled on the girl's finger. "Helen." Nerissa's voice was gentle and light, a caress carried by the wind.  
  
The girl pushed herself up onto her knees and turned around, sending the dragonfly fluttering off, away. But the girl didn't seem to notice, attention fully centered on her mother. The three year old made her way to her feet unsteadily and held out her arms, obviously - at least to Nerissa - asking to be picked up.  
  
Nerissa obliged, lifting the girl from the grass and wandering inside with her. Mind, not far over the edge of the inner wards, Nerissa set the girl down and moved toward the area that had become something of a dining area, apparently intent on it being about time to eat again.  
  
She wasn't sure how long she was distracted making up something for herself and Helen, but Nerissa was sure it wasn't that long. Unfortunately by the time she'd turned around the girl she'd left on the floor had vanished.  
  
Nerissa wasn't too worried, not immediately. Helen couldn't have gotten outside of the cave, so there were quite limited options. ... Still, it was somewhat unsettling to have one's daughter vanish between one moment and the next.  
  
Nerissa moved between rooms, moving lightly and carefully, but without a rush. Helen could not have gone far, and there was nothing within the cavern that could harm the girl, Nerissa had been so, so careful to ensure that. Children were beautiful, precious things. Children had to be protected at all costs - all Faeries loved children, or at least, the vast majority of them. Even her sister, twisted as she was, would not directly harm a child.  
  
Faeries did not have little ones often. Humans, humans abused the infants they were given so easily. It was a shame, a bitter brutal truth - but a shame. Nephilim were a little better. They at least understood that children were precious because they too knew what it was to be dying out slowly generation by generation.  
  
It was only a few moments later, when Nerissa held very still and truly listened to the cave around her that she understood immediately where Helen had gone. It was the last room Nerissa had thought to check - but truly, it should have been the first she'd entered. Helen, ah, Helen. Always so interested in her little brother.  
  
And it was true, there she was. Babbling in that childish fashion that other kids almost seemed to understand, but couldn't possibly mean anything. Though, if Nerissa listened, she could hear that the girl was trying very hard to copy the lullaby that Nerissa sang sometimes. It was sweet, really.  
  
The little girl was standing on a carefully fashioned step ladder that was set beside the cradle - Nerissa used it as a seat sometimes for that very reason, though in truth it had been placed there for Helen, to allow her a safe view into the crddle where Mark lay - it kept her from climbing in far less safe manners to do the same. Helen had pushed the cradle, Nerissa presumed, because it was rocking slowly.  
  
Mark seemed to still be sleeping, his sister having not woken him up at all. Mm. Nerissa would probably have watched for some time longer, enjoying the peace between her children if it weren't for the fact that Helen seemed to have decided she was going to attempt to climb into the cradle with Mark. "Helen, No." Nerissa's voice came suddenly and sharp. The girl froze, ocean-blue eyes widening suddenly.  
  
"Mar." She said stubbornly, obviously displeased at being stopped. Nerissa was taken aback - it was the first true word Helen had spoken, and it was an attempt at her brother's name. How... utterly sweet.  
  
"Yes, Mark. You can play with him later." Firmly. "Come on now."  
"Mar." Helen repeated, reaching for the cradle again.  
"Helen. Come here."  
  
The girl reluctantly climbed down, and Nerissa thought to herself that she would have to come up with something else to let the girl see her brother. Climbing in the craddle with him simply would not do. They could both be hurt.  
  
Later, she'd worry about it later, after dinner.  
  


* * *

  
  
Helen and Mark were on the floor for the moment. Helen was babbling, repeating his name over and over again, as children were wont to do. It seemed to amuse the boy who occasionally giggled at his sister - or perhaps he was giggling at the toy she set into motion for him every so often.  
  
Regardless, it was sweet, to sit back and watch the pair of them. Helen was so young and so surprisingly tender with her brother. Nerissa had never seen to Faerie siblings who were so close. Certainly she and her sister had never been so close. And yet, Helen was so very gentle with her brother. Nerissa thought the girl would make a good mother one day. But in the mean time, she found herself surprised that Helen never really competed with her brother for attention or seemed annoyed by him or anything.  
  
And then there was Mark who too could be soothed by Helen's presence as easily as her own, so long as he wasn't hungry and did not need to be changed. If they were not separated, Nerissa was quite certain they would grow up to be incredibly close. Then again, they were practically twins by Faerie standards, and they had hardly known the world without one another. Perhaps it should not have been shocking to her that they found so much solace in one another.  
  
They had only each other and her, after all. Since Andrew had gone Nerissa had allowed no one, not even Faolan to be very near her children, much less speak with them, play with them.  
  
Andrew. The thought of his name brought a surprising shock through her heart, one that she had not anticipated. Sometimes... it didn't. Sometimes it was easy enough to shrug off the flickering feeling of loss. But other times, like now, it gutted her as it had that first night, that day he had gone away from her forever.  
  
But this was life. She thought, almost defiantly. These were her children, and she would raise them as they deserved to be raised.  
  
And one day Nerissa would introduce them to the court properly. But as that thought crossed Nerissa's mind she wondered, wondered if these children who were half-Faerie half-Angel could ever truly belong with the Court. Wondered if Helen's gentleness would be crushed beneath the veils of half-truths and mind-games that the court was so well known for.  
  
Nerissa's heart twisted uncomfortably as she thought of that fair and precious face twisted in the same malice as her own sister's. Those lovely sea blue eyes darkened with cunning and cruelty. The very same cruelty that had cost her her own beloved.  
  
It shouldn't have been so bothersome. That was the court, this was her life. Her home. Why did it bother her so to think that Helen may learn to survive among the courtiers as one of the Gentry must? Why did it bother her so to think that perhaps brother would turn against sister as Nerissa and her own had turned against one another.  
  
Nerissa couldn't truly have said why these things bothered her, but they did. They made her very unhappy indeed. Gentle, beautiful, loving Helen, and who knew what Mark would grow to be. Time would tell, Nerissa knew, only time.  
  
But they were Faeries, and time was nothing to them.


	2. Of Institutes, Storms, and Lullabies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this chapter has a little more text from the original version than the last did. This chapter covers Helen and Mark's arrival at the institute and various scenes within the first few weeks.

Nerissa paced the chamber wildly. She was quiet, of course, always quiet when she moved. It was a Faerie thing - they could move rapidly and silently and were difficult to detect. It served her well at the moment, given both of her children were sleeping. Helen was six now, Mark was four. They weren't babies anymore, not really. She had little reason to keep them from the court now, except she didn't really want to take them there.  
  
It was hard to believe that years had slipped beyond her, like sand through an hourglass. Just yesterday Helen had wandered out of the ring of trees that protected their little glade - she'd met a Unicorn beneath the trees. Nerissa had smiled and told her that Unicorns were good omens. But, an Omen it was, truly, that Helen had left the glade on her own. It was normal, of course, to be curious about the outside world.  
  
But it was a harsh reminder for the Faerie Princess that she could not forever protect her beloved little ones in this glade, and that she did indeed need to bring them to the Faerie court to introduce them to the Seelie Queen properly.  
  
Nerissa found she couldn't stomach the idea. But she was running out of options, she certainly couldn't keep the girl here forever. Faolan had pointed that out often enough. But the more she watched her daughter grow and play the more she realized that her particular gentle, loving personality was simply not compatible with the court. She would either warp or she would be destroyed.  
  
Nerissa could not bear the thought of either one. And Mark, ah, Mark. Mark was turning out to be similar to his sister in some ways. Playful and adventurous but always careful. Always gentle, and heaven forbid he accidentally hurt his sister as they played. But the other option was almost as unthinkable as turning them over to the Court.  
  
What would Shadowhunters do to her beloved children? And yet, Andrew had been kind. Had been gentle, had certainly been capable of love. But abandoning them-  
  
On the other hand. The ache hadn't gotten easier over the years as she had expected it to. Nerissa stilled, considering what was around her for a moment. Truly she knew what she would do already. What she had already begun to do - she knew where Andrew was. She knew that he had a new wife, knew that they had an infant son of their own.  
  
But it would be so very easy... Nerissa had little doubt that he would take in the children. Nephilim, like Faeries, had precious few children. Even a half-Nephilim child wouldn't be scorned, not really. As long as their skin held runes - and of course it would. Nephilim blood was strong, so very strong.  
  
It was their Nephilim blood that made them so unsuitable personality-wise for the court. That selfless almost self-destructive personality seemed to be ingrained in their very genetics somehow. Before Helen, before Mark, Nerissa would have said it wasn't possible. But it apparently was.  
  
It had taken her little time to wake Helen. It was late, the girl was tired and confused. Nerissa hated disturbing her - but if she waited, if she kept putting this off, she would never do it. No, it had to be now. She had to do this now, before she lost her nerve and brought them to the court instead.

* * *

  
Nerissa had led the girl through the darkness while carrying Mark in her arms. They approached the Institute, walking along the beach as they did so. At another time, Helen would probably have begged to run in the waves, but she was very placid this evening. It was raining, the sort of good soaking storm that this region didn't get nearly often enough.  
  
"Can't this wait?" Helen whined finally.  
"No, it can't. But we're almost there." Soothing as she led the way up the hill.  
  
The building was there, of course. The glamour on it didn't even flicker before Nerissa's eyes. Mm. She circled the building a little, approaching the sanctuary and opening the door, motioning for Helen to follow her in.  
  
It was then that Nerissa knelt down, setting Mark down on his feet beside Helen. "Stay with him, Helen." Quietly, firmly. "Stay with him, and stay here."  
"But mom-"  
"Shh. The people here will care for you." Nerissa soothed quietly.   
  
She sang for a few moments, a haunting lullaby that Helen would recall for a long time, even if she couldn't entirely replicate or explain it. As Nerissa sang, Helen pulled Mark against her body and hugged his damp form tightly. For a minute it was all she could do, desperate and confused and scared and tired, so very tired.  
  
Nerrisa walked to the inner door of the Sanctuary and knocked thrice - and then she seemed to vanish instantly from sight. The outer door of the Sanctuary closed, and Helen and Mark were left in the room that was lit by witchlight. They were alone - Helen didn't understand it. She didn't know why this had happened.  
  
But they were alone. Helen clung to her little brother fiercely, protectively. And she cried.   
  
Helen didn't now how long she and Mark were alone in the strange space for. Not long, probably, and yet, too long all the same. There were things the little girl hadn't had time to ask. Things like how did mom know the people here would protect them.   
  
Would they? Helen wasn't so sure. She'd never really been among strangers before. It had always been Helen and Mark and Mom. And sometimes, sometimes the strange man with the same hair they had. Sometimes Helen wondered if he was their father. But when she'd asked that, mom had merely stared at her and shook her head.  
  
Eventually though, she and Mark weren't alone in the room. The other door opened to reveal a tall man with deep brown hair, the color of earth. Or treebark, maybe. And the same eyes her brother had.   
  
Helen withdrew halfway across the room, pulling Mark with her and then putting herself between Mark and the strange man with familiar eyes.   
  
The man had frozen just outside of the door that he'd opened, staring at the pair of them. A moment later a woman holding an infant followed. She had raven-dark hair, but was much slighter than the man.  
  
"Andrew who are they?" The woman questioned, slowly, obviously confused.   
  
Andrew didn't seem to have a response for a moment. "I-" He shook his head, and refocused his attention on Helen, who was still glaring at him mistrustfully as she stood between him and Mark. "Helen?" He asked, keeping his tone low and gentle. "That's your name, isn't it?"  
  
She nodded, slowly. Her eyes shone wetly, tears clinging to her eyelashes.  
  
"And behind you is Mark?"  
"Yes." Softly.   
  
"I'm not going to hurt you. It's okay." Softly, gently. "Why don't you come here?"  
  
Helen looked uncomfortable and very much uncertain. But slowly she took a few steps forward, fingers still laced through Mark's. She stopped a few feet away from the pair, clearly not sure she was going to come any closer.  
  
"So you know them?" Eleanor didn't sound accusatory, just confused. And then she seemed to notice the girl's tipped ears in the soft witchlight. "...Are they Faeries?"  
  
"Half." Andrew confirmed. "And they're my children, though no, I don't know them well anymore."  
  
If this surprised Eleanor, she didn't comment on it.   
  
Helen though had heard that, and stared at him for a moment. "You're daddy?"  
Andrew nodded once, slowly. "Can you tell me why you're here?"  
  
"I...don't know." Helen responded in a soft, distressed tone. "Mommy just said to stay with Mark and to stay here."  
  
What Andrew thought of that, he didn't share. But Helen noticed the shift in the way he held his eyes. It was the same one mom had when she asked about her father, or about the strangers that came to the glade infrequently over the years.   
  
Helen wasn't sure what to make of that expression. The little girl pushed it out of her mind after a moment, still watching him. "And then she knocked on the door and left." Helen shrugged a little. "I'm not sure why, but I don't think she's coming back." No, somehow, she didn't.   
  
Even to Helen's childlike mind, there had been something very final in the way Nerissa had said goodbye.   
  
"She didn't say why?"  
Helen shook her head.  
  
"Well come on then." Eleanor said, not unkindly. "You should both get out of those wet things, we'll get you something to change into and bedrooms set up."  
  
"Okay." Helen moved closer to them, apparently encouraged by Eleanor's gentle words. Mark toddled after his sister.  
  
Some time later saw them setup with separate bedrooms, though the moment Eleanor had gone, Helen had scrambled into her brother's room. Whether this was her seeking comfort in something familiar or some movement to protect him from the strangers was hard to say.  
  
Even so, six year old Helen climbed in bed with her brother. Her arm slid around his smaller form protectively, offering warmth and comfort to Mark. Mark turned over, still half asleep and buried his face against her chest. And that night they slept tangled together, curled beneath an unfamiliar blanket in an unfamiliar room.

* * *

  
It had been two days since they came to the institute. Eleanor had found the children to be horribly skittish. Neither she nor Andrew seemed to be soothing to the two new little ones. They seemed comfortable with only each other. They didn't act out, at least not so far as Eleanor could tell. But they didn't really behave, either.  
  
She and Andrew were sitting at the table alone having breakfast. Eventually Eleanor would go upstairs and find the children and get them to eat, too. But for now, she let them be.  
  
"I'm not sure what we're going to do with them." Andrew said finally, with a sigh. "They're so-"  
  
Eleanor arched one dark eyebrow. "We're going to keep them here, of course. We're going to raise them and see them trained. They're part Nephilim, the Clave will not interfere." Her voice was serene. "And they're frightened. They don't know what's going on. They've been abandoned on the doorstep of strangers." A pause. "And letting the Clave remove them to Idris and do whatever they will, will only make things worse."  
  
"Are you sure? I just wonder if-"  
  
"Andrew." Exasperated. "If they're moved again they may be separated. But honestly even the act of moving them will knock their feet out from under them again. Never mind it will solidify what already whispers through their mind."  
  
"And what, pray tell, is that?"  
  
"That they aren't wanted." Eleanor's eyes flashed slightly. "They're babies practically, Andrew. They've been abandoned by their mother. If you send them away too..." She shook her head. "No, we'll keep them here. We'll raise them with Julian. Whatever ill their mother may or may not have done hardly matters. They're blameless children." A pause, and her voice shifted slightly, entreating. "It's only been a few days. Give me a month at least. If they're still obviously unhappy, then we can talk about whatever other options there might be."  
  
Andrew nodded after a moment. "Alright." It surprised him, really, that Eleanor was so willing to keep them here, so determined to raise them. Most women in her position would have probably resented the little ones and what they represented. Andrew couldn't help but love her just a little more as she squared up, prepared to do whatever it took to help raise two children who were not her responsibility at all.   
  
There was a sound at the entrance of the kitchen then, and Andrew's gaze flicked over to find Helen in a loosely fitted dress that Eleanor had found for her, holding Mark by the hand, staring at the adults with those slightly over-large eyes that were the same color as his.   
  
"We were..." Helen broke off for a moment, uncertain. "It's breakfast time, right?" Her tone was suddenly worried, and Eleanor wondered what went on behind those eyes.  
  
"If you two are hungry, of course it is." Eleanor said, immediately rising from her seat. "You don't have to wait for set meal times, honestly." Eyeing the both of them, they were slenderly built - she had no real gauge for what they should look like, being part-fey. She didn't think they were underfed, but they were probably used to much different things. "If you're hungry feel free to tell me so. I'll get you something."  
  
"Okay." Helen responded quietly, leading Mark to the table and getting him sat down before she slid into a seat beside him. Helen's gaze was focused on the table in front of her, but she kept glancing up through her eyelashes at Andrew.  
  
A moment later Eleanor set a plate of food down for each of them, and then brought them each a glass of a thick brown substance that Helen eyed dubiously.   
  
Eleanor seemed to notice the confusion radiating from the girl a moment later. "Try some, it tastes good." She encouraged. "It's just chocolate milk."  
  
"Elea, I don't think they've ever had anything of the sort. Perhaps juice would be better..."  
Helen took up the glass, a little hesitantly as she peered at the opaque liquid. Even so she took a sip of it as encouraged. Her expression brightened when she got a taste of it though, the sudden sweetness was clearly pleasing.  
  
Well, of course it was, Eleanor imagined. Most children liked sweets, after all.   
  
Working with Helen and Mark was a careful process. But, Eleanor thought she was making headway. The two of them sat with her in the library, and they were beginning to pick up on their letters together. ... Mark was a little young for it, Eleanor thought, but he seemed to enjoy it, so she let him stay.   
  
It would be a little while before they were fluent readers, but Eleanor had learned quickly that they were both very bright. Really, the Nephilim woman found the two to be a pleasure to teach, even if Mark was strictly too young to begin much.

* * *

  
It had been a few weeks since the fateful night that had put them in the Blackthorn's care. Helen had counted the days - but their mother hadn't come back. In fact, Helen was beginning to believe that she wasn't going to come back at all - though she still didn't understand why.  
  
Why had mommy left them? Didn't she want them anymore? Why these strangers?Well, the last question, she could sort of answer - because of those those 'strangers' was apparently Daddy.   
  
Mark had been put in the room next to hers, which was nice, especially since he was the only familiar thing in this entire place. She slept with most nights, finding his presence to be very soothing. It was funny, really, she was the older sister and she was supposed to be the one to comfort him, but often that wasn't the way it seemed. Though to be fair, Helen supposed he probably did find her presence to be comforting too.  
  
At the moment though Helen was laying in her own room. Mark was playing in his own room. Helen was supposed to be in the library with Eleanor for a bit before Mark joined them. They were working on reading still. But Helen didn't really feel like sitting with her tutor today - not that Eleanor was strictly her tutor.  
  
The point remained though that Helen didn't feel well, sitting up for long or standing caused the world to feel funny, and her head hurt. So Helen was laying in her room, curled up and trying to pretend she wasn't there at all. Currently she was wishing she was back at home properly, because mommy would have made her feel better.  
  
Granted, Helen hadn't told anyone she didn't feel well. The little girl supposed it wasn't entirely fair to act as if they wouldn't do anything when she hadn't even tried.  
  
Unfortunately pretending she wasn't here hadn't worked, because that was Miss Eleanor standing in the doorway, watching her where she lay curled. She had kind eyes, Helen thought. She didn't look angry even though Helen hadn't come like she was supposed to. "Helen." Her voice was gentle, but there was a very light edge to it. "Is there a reason you didn't come to the library like I asked?" She wasn't demanding, but Helen shrank into herself a little anyway.  
  
"Don't... feel so good." As if Helen wasn't sure that was the right thing to say at all. What if Eleanor decided she didn't want to take care of her anymore, because she was too much trouble? Where would she go if the place mommy left them didn't want her, either. She hadn't meant to be trouble she'd just wanted to nap a little until the pain went away.  
  
Eleanor's eyes softened a little. "You should have said something at breakfast, sweetheart."  
  
Helen shifted a little in sort of a shrug. Though the way she was laying didn't lend itself to that.  
  
Eleanor crossed the room a moment later, perching on the edge of the bed near the little girl. Gentle hands brushed tangled white-gold curls out of the way, brushing the fair skin beneath. "Mm. You are running a bit of a fever. Stay put a bit, I'll bring you something for it." And then she was gone, quick as she'd come.  
  
Helen stayed curled up where she was, waiting for Eleanor to come back, trusting that she would. It didn't take her very long, much to Helen's surprise. "Drink this." Eleanor advised, offering it to the girl, who obediently sat up a little to drink the potion. It didn't taste very good, but she was at their mercy anyway. And they hadn't hurt her yet. Not that mommy had given any indication that she was going to - anyway. Her breath caught a little and her eyes shone, looking like she might cry for a moment before it was gone again.  
  
"Now, I don't now how it was before, but Helen, you have to tell me if something's wrong. I can't fix it otherwise."  
  
Helen nodded a fraction, bluegreen eyes watching her, obviously trying to figure something out.  
  
"Now get some rest. I'll be back up to check on you in a bit."  
"Will... will you read to me? Until I fall asleep?" Softly, slightly over-large eyes flicking away from Eleanor as she spoke.  
  
Eleanor nodded a little, though if she was surprised by the childish request from Helen, she didn't show it.

* * *

  
It was the first night Helen had tried to sleep in her own room since coming to the institute. It wasn't going well. Without the comforting feeling of Mark nearby all the little noises that this place made that weren't different from home, they were scary. The shadows danced and witchlight was a funny color. Helen hadn't ever really been afraid of the dark before but this was different. She couldn't help but wonder, sort of, if Mark was okay alone. He was younger than her, and she was terrified.   
  
She was going to check on him, Helen reasoned. If he was sleeping soundly she'd come back and try to go back to bed. Helen crept from her room into the hallway, pausing just in the doorway to his room. Andrew and Eleanor were just across the hall, and Julian's cradle was in the room with his parents, Helen knew. She didn't want to wake them up. Hm. Mark really was sleeping. Her singing for him before bed must have done the trick. Helen had begun to withdraw, intending to go back to her room, when she began to hear muted fussing from the other room.   
  
Helen couldn't quite say what possessed her just then, but she slipped into the room where the adults were sleeping - no, just Eleanor, she realized suddenly. Andrew must have been out still, looking into the reported demon from earlier. That report had come in with dinner, he was still gone? Helen wondered how hard it had been for mo- Miss Eleanor to fall asleep knowing he wasn't home yet. Her eyes were already well adjusted to the darkness, so Helen padded forward towards the cradle on the eastern side of the room.   
  
She leaned over the cradle a bit, wiggling her fingers like she did sometimes for Mark. Julian seemed to find this funny, because he burbled a little and grabbed at Helen's hand. She let him, only lightly tugging to keep it interesting. Her free hand rocked the cradle gently. Helen was too intent on the baby to hear the light footsteps coming down the hall signaling Andrew's return home, finally.  
  
"Helen?" His voice was soft, obviously trying not to awaken Eleanor just a few feet away. "What are you doing?"  
Helen jumped, pulling her hand away from Julian hastily - who promptly began to wail. "Oh no, Shhh shh. Julian shh. You're alright." Her voice was soft, and held a lilt to it that could only be her mother's fault. She rocked the cradle a little, but didn't give her hand back to the infant. It was too late, of course, Eleanor had woken to the suddenly much louder sounds of the awake baby. "He was awake, but not crying really. I was trying to see if I could lull him back to sleep without bothering mom." The words came out in a rush, almost before she registered them. It had been working, too. Until Andrew scared her. Helen decided not to point that out. "He was falling back asleep holding my hand, like Mark does sometimes, so I didn't think he needed anything really." Normally when Mark needed something he was inconsolable until someone figured it out.  
  
"Well thank you, Helen. That was very sweet of you to try." Eleanor murmured. If she was surprised by Helen calling her 'mom' however suddenly, she didn't comment on it. The woman did rise and wander over to the cradle though, picking up the infant who was still squalling indignantly at being surprised.  
  
"What that doesn't explain," Andrew began, "Is why you were out of your bed in the first place."  
"I couldn't sleep." In a small voice. "So I got up to check and see if Mark was okay. ... Better than me, still sleeping apparently. An' then I heard Julian." She said his name carefully, like she wasn't too sure of the sound of it yet.   
"Any reason you couldn't sleep?"  
"Andrew stop interrogating her." Eleanor murmured, a bit of a mrr of laughter in her tone. "And probably because she was trying to sleep in her own room for once and realized she was lonely without Mark beside her. But he was already asleep, of course, because she helped him fall asleep earlier. And she didn't want to wake him."  
"...Right." So she knew then, already, that Helen hadn't been sleeping in her own bed. Mommy would have frowned at her for it. But miss Eleanor seemed not to mind.  
  
"It's okay, you know. To not be ready to be alone. I know the institute is still strange to you." Eleanor seemed to be addressing her now. "You should try and get some sleep now though. I'm sure your brother won't mind if you crawl in bed with him." She advised mildly.  
  
Helen took that for the dismissal it was and scampered across the hall to curl up with Mark.   
  
It was easier than Helen expected sliding into bed with him, without disturbing the three year old's peaceful dreaming. She was supposed to be the big sister. She was supposed to comfort him, not the other way around. That was how it was supposed to be, right? But... it was kind of nice, taking solace in the fact that he was here with her. Delicately she draped an arm around him, and that was the last thing Helen really remembered that night.


	3. Of Runes and Aftereffects

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helen has her first Marks put on at ten years old. And pays for it, a little.

Helen wasn't really sure where the time had gone. It didn't seem so long ago that she and Mark had been left alone in the Sanctuary for the Blackthorns to find, but in fact it had been several years. She was ten now to Mark's eight. Little Julian was four, and there had been new additions to the family - twins, Livia and Tiberius.   
  
Ten, she was ten, and today was a very special day in her training. Today she was supposed to get her first runes. Helen would have been lying if she said she wasn't scared. But there was something special about being able to to say she was a full Shadowhunter after today.  
  
Helen was sitting at a vanity that Eleanor had had put in her room at some point in the last few weeks. Her attention was focused in the mirror while she was carefully brushing out the white-gold tangle of curls. Once she'd finished with that she set to trying to get her hair to sit just right. It took some work, and a few well placed bobby pins - Eleanor had taught her how to use them. But when she was finished, Helen was pleased with the results, even if they did make her look shockingly older.  
  
White-gold curls spilled across Helen's shoulders. They fall down to the middle of her back, Helen knows. Carefully placed bobby pins were hidden in the curls, keeping the waterfall of gold behind her ears with only two smaller pieces loose to frame her face. She wore a low-backed scarlet silk dress. The red silk had runes embroidered on it in gold - around the neckline and then at the bottom hem. It was not the sort of thing her father would typically allow - but the low back was important for today's ceremony. She wanted her new rune on her back, and thus Andrew had relented.  
  
Blue-green eyes continued to study her in the mirror - her own eyes, her father's eyes. Helen was glad she had her father's eyes. Though... she was sad, a little. Most days she couldn't remember her mother's eyes anymore.  
  
But today wasn't a day to think of her mother. Aside from the low back on the haltered red dress, it was quite long, falling well passed her knees. She thought she looked good in it. Red was a lovely color against her fair skin, bringing a vibrance to her skin that it generally lacked. She was fair and lanky - very slender. It was hard to say how she'd continue to change as her body grew, Helen knew. But she'd always been so... scrawny. Lithe, Eleanor would have corrected, had she heard the thoughts. Like a dancer, Helen's body tolerated very little excess, even when she was allowed to eat her fill whenever she wished.   
  
"Your hair looks lovely when you wear it like that." Eleanor's voice came from the doorway. Helen glanced up in the mirror to see her step-mother standing there, watching her.  
"Father hates it." Helen retorted, almost defiant.  
"No, he doesn't. He just thinks it makes you look too old for your age." Bemused. "It's normal for daddies to want their little girls to stay little."  
"I... don't think that's it." Helen murmured, gaze dropping slightly, and with it her shoulders hung low. Helen didn't elaborate on the topic.  
  
"Uh-uh. Sit up straight, that's bad for your back. Not a good habit to get in to."  
"Sorry, mom." It was still odd sometimes calling Eleanor that, but her eyes lit slightly with joy every time Helen did it. Helen liked to see that light in her eyes. Sometimes, it was almost like she and Mark belonged here in the institute with Miss Eleanor and Andrew and Julian and Livia and Tiberius.  
  
If nothing else, Eleanor really did treat them as if they were her own children. It'd been four years since Helen came to the institute and never once had Eleanor treated her any differently than she treated the others. Andrew didn't really, either. But sometimes dad was... strange with her and Mark. Helen pretended she didn't know why. Most of the time, she really didn't. He'd claimed them, when they first came here. Yet sometimes... sometimes Helen wondered if he regretted letting them stay. She didn't voice that, not to Eleanor, nor to her father.  
  
"Are you ready, dearest? It's time, if you are." Eleanor didn't seem to want to rush Helen. The Half-Faerie knew why, of course. This was an important ceremony, but if Helen wasn't mentally and physically ready for it, it could kill her. This was, after all, the moment of truth. Either Helen could bear runes and could stay at the institute, could continue to train as a Shadowhunter. Or she could not bear runes and she would have to leave, and perhaps be forced to return to the Faerie court. Helen took a deep breath, and then released it slowly.  
  
"I'm coming, I'm ready." She rose from the vanity, feeling the silk skirt fall loosely around her calves as she did so. The Silent Brothers were here, so it was now or never. Helen would be lying if she said she wasn't frightened, but she held herself tall anyway, following Eleanor down into one of the larger rooms where her parents and siblings could watch the Marking take place. Helen noticed Emma and her parents as well, Emma and Julian seemed to be playing a game - the sort that would keep them at least mostly still and quiet, but out of trouble. It was cute, Helen thought, but then her attention returned to the center of the room.  
  
For a moment though, Helen froze in the doorway behind Eleanor, staring at the hooded figure near her father. She'd heard of them of course, read about them in lessons. But Helen had never seen one, and the experience was all together unsettling. She let out a long, slow breath that might have been construed as a sigh, had anyone noticed it, and continued moving across the room. Andrew smiled at her encouragingly, motioning for her to seat herself before them.   
  
"This is Brother Zachariah." Andrew introduced.  
  
Helen sat stiffly, her muscles gone wire-tight in something akin to fear. The Silent Brothers, Helen decided, were eerie. But weren't they supposed to be bald? Helen thought she spotted dark hair beneath the raised tan hood.  ... Dark hair and an odd streak of bright. Helen tried to push it out of her mind. The state of his hair - or lack there of - was certainly not important at the moment.  
  
 _"Be at ease, Helen Blackthorn. You are not the first part-blood to receive Marks nor will you be the last."_ His tone was surprisingly friendly for all that it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. It was an unsettling quality, but Helen almost found herself wondering what he must be like - someone so friendly couldn't be so bad, right?  
  
Still, her concern for the ceremony didn't really abate. But what if it was too soon? What if she wasn't ready? What if she really couldn't handle runes, as some whispered might happen. It hadn't ever happened, to Helen's knowledge - and yet, the Clave would not talk about such things if they had, would they? No one would want to admit that they'd inadvertently killed a child with their ceremony. Especially not to someone who was just about to go through it herself. Helen didn't voice these things, instead setting her expression to something of blank serenity and nodding at him. She took another slow breath, and released it, willing the tension out of her body as she did so.  
  
It worked, a good emblem of how she had taken to her training over the months prior to this day. "I'd like it on the right side of my back." She said, in a small voice. "If... if that's okay."  
Andrew gave her another encouraging expression and withdrew across the room to stand near the other kids and Eleanor, leaving Helen alone with the Silent Brother. Well, not alone. They were watching her of course. Watching the Ceremony as they would.   
  
Brother Zachariah gave no indication one way or another except to move behind her. Helen reached back and pulled the cascade of white gold curls across her shoulder to give him freer access to the unmarked skin of her back. Bluegreen eyes pressed tightly shut as the searing pain of a mark being drawn sliced through her. She took a slightly sharp breath in, and held it, willing herself to smooth out her features, willing herself to keep the muscles that the Silent Brother drew on as relaxed as they could be.  
  
Helen forced herself to open her eyes, forced herself to keep her features from pinching in pain. Was it supposed to hurt this much? Would it always hurt this much?  
  
And then it was over, almost as suddenly as it had begun. The pain ceased, and Helen knew that if she could seen the rune, it would be ink dark against pale skin. But it was done, and the mark was complete, and that meant that everything would be alright.   
  
_"Helen Blackthorn is now a Nephilim in her own right. Any questions about her being allowed to train here should be dismissed."_  
  
And that seemed to be that. A moment later Mark grabbed one of her hands, smiling at her. "I told you it'd be okay." He murmured close to her ear as he hugged her. Helen giggled a bit, pushing him away just a hair, only to have Julian hug her next. It was true, he had told her. Late last night while she lay awake terrified for what would come the next day, he'd stayed with her last night, for the first time in several years. Helen was glad he'd stayed though, it had helped her sleep when she finally did. And it was nice, waking up beside her brother, even if it was also strange. Eleanor had been the one to come in and wake them - and their step mother had seemed completely unsurprised to see the pair curled together just as they had when they first came to the institute.  
  
"Honestly you two act like I just did something major. All I did was sit there." Helen sounded amused, but there was a lot of relief in her tone, too. 

* * *

  
After the ceremony there was something of a party. It was a strange event for Helen, how had never made a big deal of birthdays or anything like that. But Shadowhunters did make a big deal about the first runes a child held. Tomorrow she'd get her second rune - the voyance rune on her off-hand. Much less fuss would be made about the voyance rune, her father would probably draw it. Though, Helen thought she might ask if she could draw it on herself.  
  
That was for tomorrow though, today there were a few small gifts - the first stele that was actually her own, her own witchlight stone. Things that would serve her as her training continued in the following months and years. Practical gifts, Shadowhunters were good for that.   
  
Andrew brought a final gift, which he eyed in confusion and mistrust. "This was left in the sanctuary. It was labeled as for you, Helen."  
  
The girl took the package, confusion sparking in her eyes as well. It was wrapped in large, dark leaves. She opened the leaves carefully, unwrapping them from what they hid. Atop the box was a note, written on a leaf of a different sort. "For the daughter of Faeries and Angels on her first most special day." Helen read aloud, gaze flicking across the carefully penned words.   
  
The ten year old girl set aside the note and opened the box carefully, revealing a necklace - a raw amethyst pendant in a delicate silver wire setting.  
  
"Helen be careful with that." Andrew warned even as she lifted the silver necklace and let it dangle so her brothers - and Emma -  could see it properly.   
  
"It's just a necklace." Helen pointed out evenly, and the she slipped the chain over her head, letting the mineral settle where it would, between her collarbones.   
  
"But who sent it?"  
"I don't know. ... The note was signed 'Faolan' but I'm not sure who that is." Helen admitted, mildly. Still, as she said that, Helen was reminded of the male Faerie with white gold hair streaked through with crimson. She didn't voice that though, because she wasn't positive that was who it was anyway. And it seemed pointless to mention when she wasn't sure.  
  
"Faolan is a Seelie Knight." Andrew said with an eyebrow arched slightly.   
"Well the Seelie was obvious." Helen responded mildly, gesturing at the leaves.   
  
"But why would one send Helen a gift?" Eleanor voiced, somewhat confused.   
"That's what I'd like to know." Andrew added.  
  
Helen shook her head a little.   
  
"Andrew." A voice came from the doorway. "There have been sightings of a Shax demon loose. We could use some help tracking it down."  
  
And just like that, the party was apparently at it's end, and so was this discussion. Andrew and Emma's parents went and got ready for a Hunt, Emma would apparently be left with them at the institute for now.  
  
As all things did, the evening had drawn to a close, and Helen had changed out of the scarlet silk dress. The evening had given way to night-time and the kids had gathered for story time - it was Mark's turn to read to the rest of them. After story time was bed, each sibling going to their proper bedroom - the twins, the youngest of them being tucked in by Eleanor. Helen put Julian to bed while their mom handled the little ones. She didn't mind, and he enjoyed it when someone tucked him in. With that done, she made her Emma was settled in the room across from him.  
  
After Emma was settled she poked her head in on Mark, and they talked for a little while, finally alone together. Not much was said, all told. But they did spend several minutes just reveling in each other's company before Helen slipped back into her own room.  
  
By the time Helen was ready to lay down, Andrew still wasn't back. It was... unsettling, really. She couldn't remember much about Shax demons. Helen tried to put it out of her mind. Andrew always came back, she reminded herself.  
  
Helen had fallen rapidly into a fitful sleep. And as she slept, Helen dreamed. She dreamed more vividly than she ever had before. She dreamed in a riot of color - it was not at first unsettling. Strangely lucid, but not really scary. The first dreams were soft and surreal for all their lucidity. _Faerie court gatherings - rings of dancers and delicate mermaids. The sorts of things that Helen had never been to in life, but had heard about in stories._   
  
_And then there were the fair unicorns, a rare and special sight, her mother had told her. Helen had seen one, once. Just two days before she'd come to the institute. Tonight she dreamed of it again, all over white with golden hooves and a opalescent spiraling horn. It was here that the dreams first turned bloody. Instead of daintily trotting off as Helen's memory expected - it charged her. The beast's Iridescent horn sliced through skin as Helen cried out for her mother to protect her._  
  
The dreamer shifted in bed, twisting among her sheets. She made a soft noise that might have been a whine. Too low to bring anyone to her aid.  
  
 _The dream changed then. The white equine being seemed to melt into to beach sand. There was a wrongness that Helen could feel, walking on the beach. It wasn't until she stopped moving and looked down properly that she realized what she stood on wasn't sand and rocks but instead was bone. She turned to face the water then, almost afraid of what she'd find - and the ocean was awash with crimson, as if it ran with blood over the bone-speckled beach. Her breath came in sharp gasps as she turned from the crimson waters and ran as hard and fast as she could, with her eyes pressed tightly shut. Away, she had to get away. That was all the young girl could think as she ran._  
  
 _Helen stopped and opened her eyes again. For some reason, some how, she'd ended up running along the beach in her dream despite her deliberate attempt to run away from it. Here in an unfamiliar area of the beach, where bloodred waves still came in and out was a body laying against the rocks. It seemed to be a Faerie, Helen realized numbly. But there were runes cut into the Faerie's skin - runes Helen recognized - Angelic runes, Helen knew. But why? Runes should never be cut into a downworlder's skin. Helen stumbled back, away from the body before she turned and ran again again._  
  
 _It felt like she'd run a long time when the Fae child finally opened her eyes again. In front of her was her mother, Nerissa. Her mother who's voice was normally soothing, but instead only made the hair on Helen's arms raise, something was wrong. This was terrifying. Helen didn't know why. Nerissa hadn't ever hurt her - not really. Even whens he'd abandoned Helen and Mark she'd left them somewhere relatively safe. Helen knew her mother wouldn't hurt her so why was she so terrified? Helen almost didn't see the knife. Almost didn't dive away in time. The knife was dropped onto the concrete, and the creature who had been her mother only a moment before transformed - a demon._   
  
The dreamer cried out again, louder this time. But still not loud enough. Just low enough it could be ignored as misheard, or even presumed to be Helen reacting to something she was reading when she was supposed to be sleeping.  
  
 _Helen had fled from the demon that was her mother. Unarmed she hadn't been able to defend herself. But this was a dream, she told herself. They couldn't hurt her. It didn't matter if she couldn't bear to think about hurting her mother because it was just a dream and it wasn't happening. That was what she told herself when she prepared to open her eyes again._  
  
 _This time it was Andrew before Helen. Andrew was fighting a demon - Helen recognized it as a Shax demon from her lessons. The same demon he'd gone off to deal with tonight. His eyes were strange, black and empty instead of their usual bluegreen that matched the sea, that matched her own. It was a singularly horrifying moment when the demon seized Andrew and sliced his throat open, spraying Helen in his blood. And this time, she screamed in earnest._   
  
This time, Helen screamed aloud, a noise of terror and pain - more than loud enough to be heard through most of the family's hall, thrashing among the blankets that seem to cling to her holding her down, tying up her flailing limbs and terrifying her more.  
  
"Helen wake up." The voice was Mark's.  
  
 _"HELEN!" Her brother was screaming. Why was her brother screaming? "Helen save me!" The voice screamed, begging her to come. Except... Helen didn't know where he was. Her gaze cast about desperately, and she yelled back to him, trying to find him among the twisting chaos that tried to hold her back. Like the very plants of this wooded little glade had come to life and tied her up. Dimly she heard the hounds of the Wild Hunt. But what did the hunt have to do with anything? Still the sound sent a thrill of fear through her. It was only then that she looked up. All at once she realized that was where the screaming was coming from. Up. He was up there being dragged along by the Hunters. She watched in horrified rapture as they seemed to hang there in the air, out of reach._   
  
"MARK!" She shrieked, writhing away from his touch.  
  
"Helen you have to wake up. It's just a dream." Mark shook her. By then Eleanor had joined them in the room. "I don't know what's wrong she's not waking up."  
"It was too soon. I told Andrew it was too soon." Eleanor muttered, more to herself than anything. She joined Mark, balancing on the edge of the bed carefully. "Helen, dear. It's alright."  
  
All at once Helen sat bolt upright, absolutely shivering as if the room had turned frigid. Before she'd entirely registered she was awake and not alone, she was sobbing. A moment later when she realized who was there, she latched onto them both in a clinging hug, but couldn't manage to say anything. So she just... clung to them and sobbed while she tried to pull herself together. After what felt like an age - but was probably only really a few minutes, she managed to mostly calm herself. "Daddy?" She whispered.  
  
"He's not back yet." Eleanor soothed. "But Helen, whatever you saw, it was just a dream. It wasn't real."  
  
"It... it felt so real." She shivered, and Mark hugged her a little tighter.  
"I'll have him poke his head in here when he gets in, to see if you're still awake. If not, you'll see him in the morning, okay?"  
"Okay."  
"I'm going to bring you something that'll help with the dreams, okay? I should have had you take it before bed but it slipped my mind. I'm sorry."  
"It's okay."  
  
Mark stayed when Eleanor went. "You don't have to sit with me." Softly.  
"I want to, Ele."  
  
Helen leaned heavily against Mark. "I'm sorry I woke you up."   
  
Mark just shook his head a little. "Don't be." He said after a moment. "I don't know what you were dreaming about, but you obviously needed to be woken up."  
  
Helen didn't respond, didn't share the vivid images that still flickered behind her eyes. Some part of her wanted to, but... she didn't want to give him nightmares with her own dreams. They were just dreams, it wasn't like she was keeping something monumentally important from him. Dreams weren't important, they weren't really.  
  
Eleanor had returned then, offering Helen a vial with a surprisingly pleasant smelling potion in it.  
  
Helen drank down the potion without too much fuss and handed the vial back to Eleanor who took it and left, this time to go sooth the little ones who had been distressed by Helen's screaming.  
  
That left Helen alone with Mark, who didn't seem terribly interested in moving. "You should probably go back to bed." Helen said finally.  
"Slide over."  
"You sure?"  
"I'd rather be here if the potion doesn't work." Flatly.  
"But I'll wake you up."  
"I'd rather wake up to you at the beginning when you're just restless than to you screaming bloody murder."  
  
"...That's fair." She allowed after a moment. And Helen obediently slid over until she was nearly touching the wall. Mark moved around a bit until he was under the blanket with her, and they both laid down properly.  
  
Once Mark was comfortable, Helen shifted closer to him, taking comfort in his warmth.

* * *

  
"They're sleeping together again?" Andrew arched an eyebrow slightly as he leaned against the doorframe leading into Helen's room.  
  
"I think Mark must not have wanted to leave Helen alone after waking up to her screaming like she was being murdered in here." Sort of dryly.   
  
"I just... aren't they a little old for this?"  
Eleanor shrugged. "Not really, I don't think. As long as they're both comfortable with it, I don't really see the problem."  
  
"So what happened exactly?" Andrew asked, withdrawing from the doorway and closing the door.  
"The runes were too much, as I suspected." Eleanor shrugged. "Everyone went to bed, and something like two hours later suddenly everyone on this hall was awake because Helen was shrieking. Mark had trouble getting her to wake up at first. She'll be alright. I just didn't think to give her something for the dreams until it was a little too late."  
  
Andrew nodded a little.   
  
"She asked after you when she first woke up, but Mark apparently got her back to sleep." Eleanor explained mildly.   
  
"That does explain a little."  
"Nothing went badly on the hunt, I presume?"  
"No, just a scratch, it's already healed."  
  
Eleanor nodded, apparently relieved. "It was silly to worry, but Helen was so sure something had happened."  
"She was dreaming." Andrew pointed out in a mild tone.  
"She wouldn't be the first to have true dreams after her first runes."  
  
Andrew didn't have an argument for that, so he let it go.


	4. Meeting Katerina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter chapter, sort of. It's purpose was to introduce Katerina as the institute's instructor. We knew nothing about her per canon so~ building a little with her. It's not a terribly exciting chapter but there's some good interaction and dialog. Mark and Helen, Helen and mark. At this rate I'm going to have a good basis for actually making them parabatai in my story.

Helen's movements held an uncertain air to them. Katerina was watching her from the right side of the room, seeming to judge her every movement. Katerina was a new addition, a tutor to assist Eleanor and Andrew in training their children. The help was certainly welcome, ten year old Helen supposed. So many of them at different levels, never mind the twins did really need to be taken care of almost all the time.  
  
Still, Helen wasn't sure what to make of the strange woman who stood and watched as she went over her own patterns. She knew, logically, Katerina was doing this testing to see where she was in her training, to see where she should continue from. But Helen wasn't sure what to make of the eyes who watched her every moment, as if seeking some proof that her movements were not right for a Shadowhunter.  
  
Helen moved with a lithe grace that was surprising for her age, she knew. A slightly weighted practice blade was held in her hand, grip exceedingly careful. She was reciting the names of Angels as she worked. Eventually she ran out of names she had memorized, and Katerina asked another question.  
  
It was strange being quizzed while she attempted to focus on not messing up her combat movements. Helen couldn't imagine needing to be able to recite so many things while fighting at the same time.  
  
Eventually Katerina told her to leave the blades alone and move on to distance combat.  Which, Helen did pretty poorly at, she knew. Helen really was more of a sword person than a thown knife person. Even at ten she was distinctly aware of the fact. Still, Helen did the best she could with this particular test.  
  
From thrown weapons they seemed to step backwards, and Katerina had her work through several of the basic balance tests and then a number of gymnastic movements that were the sorts of things that Helen had started with. Movements that would assist in recovery from being knocked around by a demon, or having to jump or fall from an uncomfortable place.  
  
What Katerina thought of her results Helen wasn't sure. But she was finally dismissed some time later for lunch. Helen wasn't going to complain though, because she'd been working with Katerina for what felt like hours, and she was starving. Okay, well, passing by a time piece she realized it had actually been two hours. So maybe she wasn't exaggerating as much as she'd originally thought.  
  
After lunch she was in the library with Mark, helping him work through an assignment that Katerina had assigned him - well, them actually. Because part of it was in fact her assisting him in finding the answers without just giving them to him.  
  
Katerina had picked up rather immediately that Mark and Helen were being trained as if to be Parabatai, despite their incredibly young ages. Helen wasn't sure they'd go through with it in the end, sibling parabatai pairs were rare. And perhaps they wouldn't end up being one after all. But the training together was worth it. Training as a pair in that way that allowed them to complement one another properly.  
  
He was only eight, he wasn't supposed to really have started his physical training - but Helen guided him through basic unarmed bits when the adults weren't using the training room. Unarmed and balance. And some of the acrobatic pieces, though she always got Eleanor to help with those.  
  
Mark was as good at the acrobatic parts as Helen had been at his age, it was exciting, seeing him picking up each new movement. Helen hoped that Katerina wouldn't put a stop to Mark's somewhat early training.  
  
It had been a week since her first rune ceremony. In the days since she'd gained a voyance rune on her left hand, and an insight/foresight rune that Helen had chosen to have inscribed as permanent, though had not explained why.  
  
"Are you two finished with the task?"  
Helen's head jerked up, surprised to see Katerina there. "Mm... I think so. Mark?"  
  
Mark turned to face Katerina properly and recited the answer that they'd come up with. The topic had been appropriate reactions to a mundane wounded by a demon. It was an odd topic for the combined efforts of an eight and ten year old, but Helen supposed it was probably more about using their resources than necessarily having the right answer.  
  
Katarina nodded appraisingly when Mark had finished his answer. "Good." She said in an even tone. "A good afternoon's work you two."  
  
Helen allowed herself a tight smile at the woman who was to be their new tutor. "Did you have anything else for us?"  
"Not at the moment. You're dismissed."  
  
Helen motioned for Mark to follow her and scampered out of the room.  
  
She didn't stop moving, not really, until she'd wandered all the way out of the institute and down to the water's edge. Mark followed a moment later, joining her perched on the rocks as the tide went out.  
  
"What do you think of her?" Helen asked almost immediately.  
"She seems nice." Mark hedged slightly.  
"She kept staring at my ears."  
"Ele, everyone stares at our ears."  
"Family doesn't. If she's going to be here she should act like family." Tersely.  
  
Mark was quiet for a moment. "She'll get used to it, I'm sure." He offered after a moment. "She didn't say anything snide at least."  
  
That was true enough. "I just like having one place I'm not stared at like some kind of a creature on display." Helen said finally. "I hope you're right, and she does get used to it."  
  
"I imagine if she's too awful father will send her back to Idris and request someone else. He's the head of the institute, I'm sure he's got some control over who teaches his kids."  
  
Helen nodded a little. It was funny, sometimes, when the words that came out of Mark's mouth were grossly inequivilent with the body of an eight year old.  
  
"But, you should try and be nice to her, and I will be too. And maybe we'll find that she's not so bad after all, she's just new."  
  
Helen nodded again. "I didn't ever say I wouldn't be nice, just that she made me uncomfortable." Helen defended herself.  
  
"Watching the sunset, hm? Next time let someone know will you?"  
Helen turned quickly to face their father. "Sorry dad." She blurted out before Mark could speak. "It was my idea to come out here."  
  
"It's fine, no one's in trouble." He soothed. "I'm mostly concerned because it's almost dark. You know what happens after dusk."  
  
Demons could come out in the dark. Helen knew that, and she wasn't even armed. She'd been so concentrated on wanting a few minutes of peace outside in the open air she hadn't even thought about it.  
  
"I do understand wanting alone time, just next time let someone know so we can keep an eye out of a window or from the porch or something. At least this close to dark."  
  
Helen nodded. "Sure thing." But maybe they'd just find somewhere else. It wasn't like their rooms weren't generally private. Or... well. There was time to explore and consider options later. 

* * *

  
Katerina picked a great moment to wander into the training room, Helen thought, rather sarcastically. She and Mark were standing near one another in the rafters of the training room, rafters that were designed for them to climb on and train balance on.  
  
Their new instructor stood on the ground looking up at them, though Helen couldn't really judge from here how she felt about this discovery. Mark hadn't stopped yet, hadn't noticed her, and Katerina hadn't made a noise. So of course, Mark was still walking with his eyes closed, feeling his way along the beam with a carefully practiced step.  
  
"You know..." Mark started. "I'm not sure how this is supposed to be difficult."  
  
Helen laughed, a sound of bells in the wind. "I wondered the same thing. Momma just shook her head at me." But Helen guessed that most people just didn't have the inherent balance that she - and apparently Mark - had.  
  
"Mark don't panic, but we're not alone anymore." Helen said in a quiet voice, too low for it to carry.  
  
"Katerina?" He asked in a quiet tone turning on the beam to begin walking back towards her.  
"Yep."  
  
"I don't suppose you two are coming down any time soon?" Katerina called up to them finally.  
  
"Just a minute." Helen called back. "I want you to climb down properly." Helen murmured to Mark.  
  
"Of course." Mark responded, and he did indeed begin to climb back down the way they had come. Helen climbed down with him, to a point, until she was on the lowest rafters.  
  
Granted, even the lowest rafters were a little high. But Helen wasn't really afraid. She had made this jump - and higher - several times. It was part of training. Learning to jump, learning to fall. Learning how to land without breaking anything. Though, there was that one time where she'd landed badly and rolled her ankle under her.  
  
That had ended in a few days in bed and a silent brother tending to her to make sure the bone was perfectly set. Helen took a deep breath, willing the tension to melt out of her form. She was only ten, but she had to do this right. Especially with Katerina watching.  
  
With that determined mindset, Helen sprang from the rafter and rolled midair, a somersault that would ideally assist her in moving out of the way of an attack or something that fell behind. With a little space to spare Helen had righted herself and managed to land on the mat on the floor of the training room in a rather narrow stance, though she fell into a half-crouch doing so.  
  
"Show off." Mark's voice came, but the eight year old sounded more amused than anything. He joined her a moment later, standing in front of Katerina who was regarding them with a guarded expression.  
  
"Do you two do that often?"  
"Sometimes." Helen's voice was even. "Mom lets me work with him sometimes because it's fun. She's seen us do it lots of times. Besides, there's no reason not to start early, she said, because the body learns best early."  
  
"I'm not denying that he can be trained, I was merely curious." A pause, and then a sigh. "You really don't have to justify and defend everything to me."  
  
"Don't I?" Helen challenged. "The clave sent you here to make sure we're being trained properly because they don't believe half-bloods belong."  
  
"Helen!" Mark's eyes had gone wide.  
  
"The clave still believes even though my skin bore runes that I don't belong because I'm part-seelie. So they sent you to see if I could really keep up with with what they consider to be a real training regime and you have no idea how to handle the fact that Mark and I are both working above age level. And we always have, ever since mom managed to get me caught up because I was so behind on reading." Helen's stance had widened slightly, but there was a defensive poise to the way she held herself.  
  
"I've spent the last week waking up with screaming nightmares because the clave pushed father into allowing me to take my first runes early. And now they've sent you to look for any excuse at all to have us forced out of the institute."  
  
"Helen stop." Mark's voice was strained. "You promised you'd be nice."  
  
Helen stood her ground, hands closing and tightening into fists as she stared at Katerina who merely watched her with a passive expression for several minutes. Neither seemed to acknowledge Mark for a moment.  
  
"Now, don't you feel better having gotten that off your chest?" Katerina asked after a moment, sighing despite the light tone of her words.  
  
Helen narrowed her eyes slightly, but Katerina held up her hand, stopping whatever Helen may have said. "It's my turn."  
  
Helen kept her mouth shut, watching Katerina.  
  
"The Clave didn't send me here. The clave may believe all those things you acuse them of believing, I won't deny it. But they did not say as much to me. Your father asked me to come, and the Clave gave permission for me to leave my previous post and come here. I was chosen by Andrew to come here and assist Eleanor in training you guys because handling all of you is a full time job. Andrew and I were friends in the Academy, and that's why he asked me to come." A slow breath. "I wasn't sure what to make of you two. I'm still not sure, but the last thing I would try to do is break your family apart, Helen."  
  
"I'm not here to make your life harder, or make you feel like you have to justify every move you make to me. I just need you to work with me a little bit, so that I can help you in the best way I can. That's what I'm here for, to help you be the best Nephilim you can be. And I can see flashes of it sometimes, when you aren't holding back in resentment of me, you have the potential to be very skilled indeed. I certainly wouldn't look at the way you train, at the skill you have, and say that you don't have what it takes to stay here. It would be nothing but a lie, and I don't like to make a liar of myself."  
  
Helen seemed to consider this for a moment before her stance relaxed a little. Just a little, but it was enough. It was a start.  
  
It would take time before Helen was entirely comfortable with the stranger who lived in the institute with them now, the stranger who was an adult and looked at the pair of them with eyes conditioned by the clave and not by familial attachment. But Helen really did feel better, having said her piece. And maybe now that the air was clearer between them things could begin to get better.


	5. Of Training and Mark's Runes (and more training)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh. So. We cover training and Mark's runes in this one. We've got baby Dru~! Mentioned, not... doing much because I actually don't write small children very well, tbh. Family time with Eleanor. Random special guest appearance of a certain warlock. And Helen and Andrew have some Real Talk.

So here they were again, Helen thought. Here they were again, preparing for the first Rune ceremony. This time it was for her brother, for Mark. She was twelve this year, which Helen had come to find out was the normal age to have those first runes done. It was agitating, slightly, knowing they were doing to Mark what had been done to her. She wondered if he would be plagued with the same nightmares she had been.  
  
Helen resolved to be ready for the likelihood that he was going to. It was, she had learned in the intervening time, very normal for children who had taken runes so early to suffer nightmares. Sometimes, they were even true dreams, said to be glimpses of the future granted by the angel's power. Helen wasn't sure if her own dreams had been true or not - they hadn't seemed to be.  
  
Nothing she had dreamed had come to pass, a fact for which Helen was thankful. Mm. There was the Silent Brother who had come for the ceremony - it looked to be Zachariah again, if Helen was recognizing him properly. That meant Mark would join them shortly.  
  
Julian and Emma stood near her, graceless six year olds, but curious about the ceremony, Helen was sure. Eleanor was talking to them quietly, explaining what they could expect. Liv and Ty were a little way away. The twins were four this spring. There was another little one, Drusilla, her parents had named the little girl, who was two years old now. Eleanor was holding Dru on her hip. Though the girl seemed quite interested in getting Andrew's attention.  
  
Helen's attention was on the door, waiting for Mark to make his appearance. A moment later he did, with Katerina following a bit behind him. Helen and Katerina had come to something of a truce, and in fact Helen actually found she liked the woman, most of the time.   
  
Mark wore a pair of black slacks, but his shirt was a deep crimson in color with golden runes at the hems of the sleeves. It looked good on him, Helen thought. She noticed his gaze on her, and she smiled supportively.   
  
The ceremony was brief and went much the same as Helen's had gone. Helen noticed the same pain lines in his expression that she wasn't sure were entirely normal. Still, he took the runes well enough.  
  
The ceremony ended, Brother Zachariah left. Helen and Mark spent some time training - going over runes, Ironically - before the brief party that lasted until just after sunset.   
  
There was another oddly wrapped gift in the Sanctuary, though this time Helen had found it and brought it up to the party. Mark eyed it dubiously for a moment and then unwrapped it. "I... have no idea what this is." Mark admitted picking up the item, which looked sort of like an arrow head.  
  
Helen narrowed her eyes. "It's... an elf bolt. Faolan again?"  
  
Mark nodded a little. "I wonder if I could master it."  
"You've got your work cut out for you with the katana already." Amused. "But you do well with a bow, so maybe."  
"I'm not sure you should try." Andrew sounded reproving. "That is not a weapon Shadowhunters should use."  
  
"Shadowhunters should seek to become proficient in as many different weapons as possible, because it is impossible to know what will be useful in any given situation." Helen recited.   
  
Andrew glared at her, but Katerina smiled. "I don't really see why he couldn't try. If he doesn't make any progress with it we'll put it aside and continue with just the bow." Shrugging a little. "He would certainly not be the first to pick up something incredibly unconventional."  
  
Mark looked triumphant.  
  
And so it was decided, Mark would attempt to learn how to use the strange elf-bolt. Helen was amused, sort of - she had gotten a pendent of amethyst for her first runes, and he had gotten a weapon.  
  
Not that it really made a difference, it wasn't as if Helen hadn't gotten a number of weapons over the years.   
  
That night there was no pretending, no dancing around what the eldest Blackthorn children had decided. Mark took a dreamless sleep potion and Helen crawled into bed with him - in his room. Andrew wisely pretended not to notice - having finally come to terms with the fact that he would never entirely understand why his eldest children did what they did. But acknowledging that they found comfort in each other and that it didn't harm either of them any.  
  
That night they fell asleep curled together. Helen's slender arm draped across her brother's form, and he seemed to take comfort from her there. They spoke for a long time before they finally lapsed into sleep. 

* * *

  
In the days after the rune ceremony, Helen and Mark's training intensified exponentially. Though, this was partly due to their own determination to make progress. In the mornings they worked on languages and history, on the law and the accords. They learned about downworlders and their various abilities. They learned about the history of various downworlders. They recited the names of angels and the names of demons, and they went over identifying markers of the most common demons.  
  
In the afternoons they worked on the more physical aspects - they went for a run along the beach after lunch. They sparred with one another in unarmed combat sessions. Some days they practiced jumps and falls and somersaults. Other days they were watched by Katerina as they worked with blades of various weights and lengths. As they mastered seraph blades.   
  
And of course, Mark continued working with both the bow and the elf-bolt he'd gotten for his first rune gift. While Mark did that Helen tended to continue blade work on one side, concentrating on holding larger and heavier blades steadier and longer.   
  
"...Helen what are you doing?" Katerina asked, having turned from where Mark was working to stare at her. Helen was, at that moment hanging from one of the beams by her arms, though firmly over one beneath it.   
  
"What does it look like?" Helen called back, laughing. "I'm using my weight in resistance training, obviously." As if to prove her point she pulled herself up onto the upper beam using only her arms, and then lowered herself back down slowly. "I was thinking I'd see if I can get some electrum rope and create several free hanging loops to work with. Mundanes do something similar in gymnastics. Trains upper body strength, also opens up several opportunities for core strength training. All very useful to Nephilim."  
  
Helen let herself drop down onto the lower beam and then sprang down to join Katerina on the lower floor, landing with a practiced grace. "I don't know if dad will let me do it though."  
  
"I suppose it would be worth considering." A pause. "Though I would like a better idea of what you have in mind before I let you start hanging electrum rope up from the rafters."  
  
"Okay." Grinning. "I'll see if I can get something drawn out to show what I mean." It wouldn't be that hard, Helen figured, even if she wasn't a great artist. It wasn't a complicated idea, after all. At least, it didn't seem to be complicated in her head.  
  
The worst part was making sure that the ropes were strong enough to handle the abuse that she and the others were likely to put them through. But little steps. First Helen had to convince Katerina and Andrew to put them up.

* * *

  
"I'm not so sure about this." Andrew was saying, eyeing the design that Katerina had put in front of him.   
  
"I'm not either." Katerina admitted, mildly. "But I'm not sure it'd hurt anything, either, to put them in. Even if only Helen uses them, an additional source of exercise almost certainly won't hurt."  
  
"Well they're awfully simple." Eleanor added, mildly. "So it wouldn't even be that hard to put them in for Helen to play with. She's even right about electrum wire with some sort of a leather wrap for the rings being strong enough for the task." Helen had not foreseen the need for some sort of a grip on the wire for the actual rings, but Katerina had noticed that particular lack rather quickly. Cutting up hands on the electrum wouldn't anyone anywhere, really.  
  
"It's just two rings suspended from one of the rafters. They could always be designed to be moveable along one of the beams for widening them or getting them out of the way." Eleanor continued, shrugging a little.  
  
The adults continued to debate the issue, considering the logistics of it. Meanwhile, Helen and Mark were training in the waves. Well, they had been. Now they were running and playing because sometimes even Nephilim got distracted. Learning to run and keep their balance on the rocks and sand of the beach helped immensely. If they could manage on loose, broken ground, they could keep their balance through almost anything.  
  
So really, even if their distracted playing they were training their bodies - extending their endurance and pushing themselves to learn how to stay on their feet despite the waves dragging at them.  
  
As wild animals might prove, when studied, play was incredibly important if used properly. Still, an hour so or more of that saw them sitting on the porch of the institute, watching the sunset over the water. This was one of their compromises. The other involved a somewhat hidden door that lead onto the roof. It was nice up there, but since they'd already been outside when it started to get dark they'd withdrawn to the porch instead.  
  
Probably by the time the sky was completely dark they'd be mostly dry. That suited Helen well enough, though they'd still have to shower and change - saltwater got itchy when allowed to dry on the skin.   
  
"Helen... do you ever wonder what things would be like, if we hadn't been left in the sanctuary?"  
  
Helen's expression remained very level. "Sometimes." She admitted, after a moment, bluegreen eyes trained on the horizon, where the sky and water met. "But I don't dwell on it much, because this is our life." Her gaze flicked to Mark's face, finally. "There's little point in dwelling on might-have-beens."  
  
"I guess you're right."  
  
"We should go inside and get cleaned up before dinner." Helen suggested after a moment, nudging open the door and wandering inside.   
  
After supper the all the kids had gathered with Eleanor in one of the drawing rooms. Mark and Helen set Livia and Tiberius between them while Helen held Drusilla on her lap. Julian and Emma were settled together not too far away. At first they played games - the youngest ones identified runes from flashcards.   
  
Once that was done, Eleanor read a chapter of a story to them. They were onto White Fang by Jack London - a book their father didn't understand the draw to, but Ty loved it because it was about a dog. Helen had read it previously, but she didn't mind the repeat, especially not when it made her little brother so happy.  
  
They ended up going through two chapters, though Livia kept almost dozing off on Helen's shoulder. After story time was over Emma's parents had appeared to take her home and Julian and the younger ones all went to bed.   
  
It so happened that Helen and Mark were still up when there was a ringing of the doorbell downstairs. Andrew went to answer the door, but Helen motioned for Mark to follow her, and they stood on the stairs above the entry way to hear what was going on. An emergency or...?  
  
No, a visitor.  
  
"Tessa." Andrew greeted warmly. "It's been a while."  
"I know, I won't make excuses for that."  
"Most of the kids are in bed, but I suspect Helen and Mark will be glad to see you again." There was a pause. "Are you two going to come down?"  
  
Helen glanced at Mark, giggling a little before she scrambled down the steps. It had been something like three years since Tessa had last had a chance to visit them. Why neither of them had any idea, but it was what it was. She came when she came, as warlocks were wont to do. Well, Helen imagined there was a more substantial reason for why she didn't come around very often.  
  
Helen embraced Tessa easily once she had reached the entry way where the adults stood. "Aunt Tessa~" It wasn't strictly accurate, Helen didn't think. They weren't really related, Tessa was a warlock. But it was a sign of where she fit into their odd family dynamics.   
  
"I hear someone had their first runes recently."  
"I did." Mark agreed.  
"And another one of those odd gifts?"  
"Mark got an Elf bolt." Helen supplied. "From the Seelie Knight who left my necklace. He's starting to get the hang of using it too."  
"Are you really?" Tessa sounded surprised, just a little.  
  
Mark nodded. "It isn't easy." Wrinkling his nose slightly. "But I'm starting to get it to respond every time." Which was a good start. It would be easier, of course, if he'd seen someone else use one but... well. Instead he was working on a basic text explanation that was buried in one of the books in the library.   
  
"Well good luck on mastering your new weapon."   
"Thanks!" Mark responded.   
  
"Shame I missed story time apparently."  
Helen laughed, a little. "We're reading White Fang." She supplied.   
"Interesting choice."  
"Ty likes animals." Shrugging a little, as if that explained everything. And maybe to her it really did. 

* * *

  
Ultimately Helen got her rings suspended from the ceiling of the training room. It was an exciting day for her, when they were put up and secured in place on one side. Andrew stood back a bit once they were put up, obviously intent on watching what Helen had in mind.  
  
The girl stayed turned away from her father as she approached them, jumping up lightly and catching herself on the rings, supporting her full weight easily as she had on the rafters the day she'd presented the idea to Katerina.   
  
At first she just seemed to hang there, but after a moment she began to swing herself back and forth a little, pulling her lower half into various positions while using her core muscles to stabilize herself - Andrew thought he understood then, watching her, what she had in mind. It was another variation on falling, on tumbles, on flips. Except she was learning how to use her own body as a weapon in the process.  
  
Helen dedicated an hour or more of her day to the rings every day in addition to her other training. Andrew wasn't terribly surprised when he could see vast improvements in the way she handled herself on them. Using her own weight as resistance seemed to be giving her more power in general. It strengthened her upper body significantly - a weakness most females had was the fact that naturally they weren't as powerful.  
  
Training could level out that gap, Andrew had known that. If it couldn't, the Clave wouldn't allow women to train to often to join men on the battle field. In all honestly, Helen was much better than her brother - that could have been the two year difference in them and the fact that Mark was not yet at the deepest part of his training.  
  
"...Helen." Andrew had begun.  
  
"What?" She sounded exasperated. She had pulled her lower body into a sitting position, supported exclusively by her hands on the rings.  
  
"I was just wondering if this was supposed to serve any purpose in particular."  
  
"I had a dream not so long ago, that I was suspended from a ceiling by rose vines." Helen said in a mild tone. "And the thorns on the vines were tearing apart my skin, wrapped up and down my forearms. At some point I grabbed a hold of the vines with my hands to steady myself, ignoring that the thorns wounded my hands too, and then I pulled my body up like this using my core muscles because it gave me more leverage when I decided to do this." Helen's weight dropped suddenly and she had swung forward, half arcing her body in a kick that would inevitably break bone if it landed solidly. "I have no idea how such circumstances would become necessary but..." She shrugged, an odd motion given her current positioning. "But I was curious if I could do it. I can." Clearly.  
  
"Your dreams sometimes." Shaking his head.  
"Mom says they could be true dreams."  
"Nephilim do not generally have such dreams."  
"No, but Faeries do, sometimes." Helen released her grip on the rings and landed lightly on her feet. "And certain runes do enhance Nephilim dreams, and some Nephilim were said to have visions granted to them by the Angels themselves. It's not common, but it has happened."  
  
There was something strange, in Andrew's eyes, Helen noticed as she stilled, watching him. She'd turned around to face him, standing as she was just under the rings. Bluegreen eyes regarded the man who was her father - chocolate brown hair, eyes that matched her own. A slightly darker skin tone - not that he was dark by any means, but he tanned better than she did. The summer sun on the water had affected him much more than it did Helen.  
  
Helen and Mark were pale as anything, no matter how many hours they trained on the beach instead of in this room.   
  
But that look in Andrew's eyes, she'd never seen it before, not when he was looking at Eleanor or the other kids. Something about it made her want to recoil, she didn't - though her expression did shift a little, more guarded than before.  
  
"Not that I think I'm special or anything." Helen added in the silence that stretched between them. "But there's nothing wrong with being prepared."  
"What was the first dream you had, that made you so sure they might be true dreams?"  
"The ones after my first runing."   
"But what did you dream, Helen?"  
  
It was an odd thing for him to ask. "Many things." She hedged. "First I dreamed of Faerie revelries. And then I dreamed of a unicorn. After that a bone speckled beach where the ocean waves ran crimson with blood. Further down the beach was a faerie body with Angelic runes cut into the skin." She paused for a moment, obviously considering if she should continue. "Then I dreamed of my mother, and she turned into a demon and tried to attack me. Then I dreamed of you. You had flat black eyes and you weren't very responsive. The Shax demon killed you, spraying me with your blood." Helen paused again, setting her jaw slightly. "And then I dreamed of the Wild Hunt, and they had taken Mark, and he was screaming for me to save him, but I couldn't. It was too late, nothing in the world could save him if the Hunt had taken him."  
  
Helen let out a long, slow breath. "I refuse to be that weak. I refuse to have no choice but to stand by if they were true. I will train every day. I will do whatever it takes. I won't be a passive victim. I won't let anything destroy my family. I won't lead a life that results in me having no choice but to listen to my brother scream as he's dragged away by Gwyn the hunter. I won't be helpless as a demon dares to use my mother's form to taunt me, I won't stand by helplessly as a demon kills my father. I won't. I am Nephilim. I am greater than my fears."  
  
"It doesn't matter to me if they were true dreams or not, ultimately. They have the potential to be real things. I am Nephilim, I was expected to lead a life of war from the day I came to the institute til death. I may as well be prepared to fight with my whole self." It was who and what she was, after all.  
  
Andrew's expression had shifted somewhat while she spoke. What he thought of her carefully stated convictions he didn't share for several moments. "You know, sometimes... sometimes you amaze me, Helen." He said, finally. "Don't forget to be a child though, don't forget that there is more to life than training for a thing that may never happen."  
  
Helen didn't point out that even if nothing but demons ever came, she was still expected to handle that. Instead she nodded. "I won't forget." She promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive the fact that 12 year olds shouldn't have so very strong convictions, this gets into a world headcanon that would need a lot more than this notes section to explain. The TL;DR version is: This is a race of absolute zealots. Their kids are literally (almost) never kids. Also I love comments <3 so if you have anything to say at all, I'd love to hear it.


	6. Of Fragile Family Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy family moments, and a not so fluffy scene in which we get to see Faolan again.

"Dru~" Fourteen year old Helen called out to her youngest sister. As the little one turned, her expression lit up. Helen found herself thankful that Eleanor was nearby with the camera to capture the moment. Helen and Drusilla spent several minutes down on the floor together. The game they were playing was designed to help Dru start to hone her motor skills - and also learn shapes and colors. Helen seemed to be enjoying herself - but Helen had always had an odd affinity for working with her younger siblings. Mark teased her sometimes, about being their second mother.

Helen didn't mind the teasing, though sometimes it seemed strange, really. Realizing that sometimes she really was a second mom to her younger siblings. Eleanor at least seemed thankful for the extra hands. But you know, it wasn't surprising given how many of them there were.

"Dru that hurts." Helen said, keeping her voice calm. "Let go of my hair." She let out a hiss of pain as the girl yanked instead.

"Dru." A moment later Eleanor grabbed the younger girl's hand, carefully untangling it from Helen's long blond curls. Helen sat up, massaging her scalp. "I think it's about time for supper anyway." Eleanor mentioned mildly.

"I'll go get the others then." Helen piped up before scrambling down the hall while Eleanor went to check on the food that should be ready by now.

"Livia, Tiberius." She'd found them in Ty's room, somehow Helen wasn't surprised. Ty was reading, Liv was practicing her letters in a notebook. "It's dinner time you two. Downstairs, shoo."

Emma and Julian were found to be in the studio that Eleanor shared with her artistically inclined second-oldest son. They were painting, though at her immediate glance Helen really couldn't tell what the image was supposed to be. "You two should wash up and head down stairs." Helen said, leaning against the door frame. "It's dinner time and after that Emma's parents should be around."

"Alright Helen~" Julian responded.  
"Make sure you close the paints properly before you leave." She advised before leaving, this time in search of their last sibling.

Mark was to be found on the roof, somehow, this didn't shock Helen. No, the roof was a place that Mark could often be found - and Helen too. It was a good place to get open air without leaving the safety of the institute in such a way that would allow demons to get at them. They could watch the sunset, listen to the waves, and they could talk to one another generally without interruption.

"Mark." Helen almost hated to break the quiet moment up there, but she approached her brother anyway. "It's dinner time."

"Oh, alright." Mark smiled at her vibrantly, and Helen's hesitance for breaking the moment evaporated. Helen returned the smile easily and took his hand almost reflexively, spending just a moment gazing at the waves before releasing him and turning back towards the door she'd come from.

It was small things like that, small touches and fractions of minutes shared between them that none of the others saw or understood, it was that which supported the two of them through the scorn they got more often than either of them admitted. It was standing side by side against the world with their family just behind them. And yet, neither of them would ever share with their family, not really.

Helen wasn't shocked when they arrived in the kitchen to find they'd been beaten by the entire family - after all Mark was the last person she'd found, and the furthest away possible while still being in the institute.

Emma and Julian sat side by side, chattering, Dru had brought a toy to the table, Livia and Tiberius were lost in their own little world as they so often were. Mark settled down into a seat while Helen moved to help Eleanor get plates made for everyone. Helen was tasked with making sure Dru's was cut into bites small enough for her to work with.

Andrew chose that moment to appear from the office - so apparently Helen and Mark weren't last. "Hey dad~" Helen greeted cheerfully. Carefully she moved around Eleanor to bring Dru's plate to the table. It was a fluid movement, it was easily clear to even the casual observer that they'd worked in this space together many times.

A moment later Eleanor was setting Livia and Tiberius' food down while Helen was back at the stove making plates for Julian and Emma. Only after that did Helen make herself and Mark a plate while Eleanor made a plate for the last two of them - the adults.

Over-dinner chatter ranged from what Eleanor had gotten pictures of that day to what Julian and Emma had covered in their lessons with Katerina. Helen relayed in an amused tone her game with Dru that had turned slightly painful.

By the time Emma's parents got there an hour later everyone was still gathered at the table, but Helen had picked up most of the dishes. She was washing them and humming to herself while the others chattered - it was her turn. Those of them old enough all alternated the kitchen chores so it didn't get to be too much for any of them.

And besides that, with so many of them staying here, and strangers in and out all the time because it was an Institute, and that was what happened here, having a method by which to handle all the dishes and such they generated was kind of important.

Eleanor, it seemed, believed in a fair division of labor, and Andrew allowed her to impose it on the family because it helped keep the institute running smoothly on a day to day level. Emma's parents stayed only a brief time before leaving with her.

It was that time of night where they all sort of scattered. Eleanor put Drusilla to bed, and not too long after the twins as well. This was life, in the Blackthorn house, in the Los Angeles Institute. LA was a busy down, and there were many nights were one parent or both were gone all hours. Tonight the call came late - when all the children but Helen and Mark were already in bed.

Eleanor, Katerina, and Andrew left, and Helen and Mark stayed up in the library. It was long passed when they should have gone to bed. It was always difficult, going to sleep knowing all the adults were out handling something nasty. Tonight was a full moon, was it a rogue wolf that had called them out?

Helen wasn't sure, really. She hadn't been close enough to hear the adults talking about it. All she knew was that she was kind of nervous, and also a little disappointed - Helen was still considered to be too young to go out on patrols. On the one hand, she was glad because it meant that she could stay with Mark, but on the other hand... she would have rather been able to do something. It'd be hard, reconciling the two in that little space between she was old enough and he was.

"I wonder when they'll be back." Mark mumbled in Spanish.

Helen couldn't help the little giggle. They'd been practicing Spanish together earlier that day. Mark picked them up faster than Helen did, typically, and she realized he was reading over spanish vocabulary even now. "It's hard to say." Helen responded easily in kind. "But they'll come back, they always do." Her tone was absolutely confident despite its weariness.

"We should probably go to bed. Katerina will have no mercy for us in the morning." Helen had chosen the words carefully. Forcing herself to speak in Spanish was of course the fastest way to learn. Shadowhunters tended to take on many languages amid their studies - it prepared them for being useful all over the world.

"Unfortunately, you're right." Mark admitted, sighing a little. They spent the next few minutes tidying up the library, putting things back where they belonged.

Morning would come quickly, they both knew. But sleep... sleep would come slowly. It always did when the adults were out.

* * *

  
Helen found herself awake with dawn despite her extremely late night. Normally she would have slipped her way through her siblings rooms and checked on them all before heading downstairs, but not this morning. This morning she made her way down into the kitchen before anything else, making a pot of coffee - Mark was bound to need some too - and using the caffiene in an attempt to force herself the rest of the way awake.

The sensible thing to do would have been going back to bed, but Helen was well aware that if she did that she'd end up waking up to her tutor, annoyed with her for being late. After her second cup of coffee Helen slipped back up the stairs to peek in on the little ones, one by one. Unsurprisingly they were all still asleep.

Mom and Dad's door was open, partially, so she leaned in a little intending to relieve the tension in her chest, only to find that they weren't in there. Now, knowing how late they had to have gotten home, that only made her chest knot up in panic worse. Because... it meant there was only one other place that made any sense.

The infirmary. Helen ghosted through the halls until she reached that particular area of the institute. Upon entry, she saw what she had dreaded - it wasn't the first time. It wasn't new. That didn't make it any easier to see her father lain too-still on one of the beds with the upper portion of his gear removed and several runes drawn on the skin of his chest. It didn't make it any easier to see Eleanor holding one of his hands while half dozing in a chair, still wearing her gear.

"He'll be fine." The voice was Katerina's.  
"I know. He always is." Helen sounded more convinced than she felt, she always did. "But I'll never get used to coming in here and seeing it."  
"You shouldn't." Katerina admitted in a mild tone. "The day you become desensitized to your own people being injured is they day you should step away from the battlefield."

That was an odd take on it. Helen didn't comment though, shrugging instead. "How bad is it?"  
"Poisoned. The runes are only somewhat effective." Katerina admitted, mildly. "But we've got treatment started for that, he'll be fine by this afternoon probably."

Helen nodded stiffly. "Thanks for the update." Tightly. She meant it, of course. She always did. The girl glided across the room to join her mother at Andrew's bedside. She reached for the blanket draped across the other chair almost reflexively and placed it around Eleanor's narrow shoulders. This movement didn't wake the woman, which actually surprised Helen a little.

After a moment or two though, Helen turned away from the scene and left the infirmary. "Late start on training today then?" She asked, pausing next to Katerina.

"Make sure you and Mark get some sparring in this afternoon, other than that consider it a free day. Use the time as you will."

"Alright." It was rare that they had a day with no structured lesson from Katerina at all, but Helen wasn't going to complain. Helen didn't bother going to see if her siblings were still sleeping - she knew they were - so Helen slipped out into the open air. It was a cool morning, a reminder of the frost they'd had only days before.

Helen checked the rune on her arm, making sure she was properly glamoured before she continued down to the beach. Helen spent a few moments listening to the waves. Helen worked her way through various stretches and a few martial poses. Nothing fast or particularly useful. Concentrating on waking up her muscles and with them her mind.

It wasn't really working. Though, Helen was pleased to realize she had leveled out some, centering her mind and leveling her emotions out. Finally she settled on a jog, then she'd go back and make breakfast for the little ones and the day would go on.

"Well if it isn't a Nephilim child."

Helen froze and spun around to face the man. He was tall, that was what she registered first. It was daylight, so the chances of it being a demon or a vampire were relatively low. Werewolf? Warlock? ... Faerie? Helen's gaze couldn't find an immediate mark on him. And his ears didn't seem to be pointed, though it could be a glamour, either one could be a glamour.

She took a step back. "Can I help you?" She asked in a level tone. It happened fast, one moment she was standing a few feet away from the strange male, the next she was slammed against the side of an abandoned building, having a difficult time freeing herself from the iron grip.

Helen struggled, kicking at him and regretting that she'd brought only a small dagger with her into public.

"Leave her alone." The voice was strange, it had a melodic quality that made no sense for the words spoken. Helen turned her head - and she saw him. It was as if he'd stepped out of her memory - easily one of the tallest men she'd ever seen, white blonde hair streaked with scarlet, and delicately pointed ears. Faerie, gentry. She knew it instantly.

"Stay out of this Faolan. After last night-"  
"The ones who died last night brought it on themselves." Faolan's voice was tight. "You will let her go now or I will kill you where you stand. Your choice, Child of the Moon."

"Watch yourself you Nephilim bitch." The wolf spat as he slipped off between the buildings.

Helen stared after him for a moment. "...I don't even know what happened last night."  
"Of course you don't. You're too young to have been hunting last night. ... Also too young to be roaming the streets on your own, you know."  
"We Shadowhunters grow up fast." Helen said, letting herself study the man carefully. "He called you Faolan." It wasn't a question.

"So he did."

Helen drew the chain up, pulling the pendant she wore into the light for a moment. "I wanted to say thank you. For the present, and for saving me."  
"Did Mark enjoy his as well?"  
"Yeah. He's learning how to use it."  
"Good." There was a fraction of a pause. "You should go back home little Helen."

"I will." She murmured. "Thank you again."  
"Don't worry about it." Was all he said as she turned to leave. But Helen knew she wouldn't forget the Seelie's actions - forgetting a favor done by the Court was a bad idea. But Helen couldn't quite fathom what he might want from her, and she hadn't really asked, either.

Probably he was intending to maintain favor with her, perhaps to earn a friend in the institute as she came into her own. Or perhaps he was merely deciding to protect her because she was Faerie blooded and that meant something to the Court. Helen made a mental note to make sure she did a little more focused studying on the Faeries. Understanding what she was working with was important.

Her walk home happened in something of a blur - concentrated so much on who was around and if they may be threatening that she hardly noticed she had made it almost home. Helen didn't really relax until she was within the entrance hall of the Institute with the door firmly shut behind her.

Mark was sitting in the kitchen curled around a cup of coffee - but it was just Mark, so Helen knew she wasn't too late. "I take it you saw already?" She asked and he nodded. "He still out?" Another nod.

"Went for a walk to clear your head?"  
"Originally to wake up."  
"Anything happen. You seem kind of... tense."  
Trust Mark to notice that in no time at all. "Ran into a very upset werewolf about something that happened last night." She shook her head. "Faerie of all things chased him off."

"A faerie?"

"Apparently called Faolan."  
"Well that's interesting."  
"Isn't it? Tall, blond and red haired. Green eyes. Didn't say much, just delicately chased me off home and warned me to be more careful."  
"The same one?"  
"Seemed to be. Or at least, he didn't contradict it when I thanked him for the necklace, and he deliberately asked about yours."

"Anyway, let's do morning runs in pairs for a little while." Mark shifted the topic back to the original concern.  
"To be fair, we usually do."

Helen set to making breakfast - it was a Friday, pancake day. Ty didn't like it when things were knocked out of place, so it seemed like the best thing she could do in light of Eleanor sleeping and father wounded was to step up in their place and make sure that the schedule was adhered to somewhat.

Besides, pancakes were good, and Helen was starting to get hungry.

"Morning Jules." Smiling over her shoulder. "Working on breakfast now. ... Can you do me a favor and check on Dru when you finish with that?" He'd gotten himself a drink upon entering the kitchen.

"Sure thing, Helen." Pause. "Should I get the twins?"  
"If you could when you go back upstairs, that'd be great."

"Mark can you cut up Dru's pancake for me?"  
"Of course." And setting to do that while Helen took too plates up to the infirmary, handing one to Katerina and insistently nudging Eleanor awake to take the other.

"Well thank you Helen." Eleanor responded, looking up with a warm smile. "This is very sweet."  
"Thought you could use something in your system." Helen murmured. "Tea? Juice? Coffee?"  
"Orange juice would be fine, if you please."

Only after taking the juice to Eleanor did Helen finally settle down with the kids to eat. They were mostly done, but Helen didn't mind. None of them asked, none of them needed to. Eleanor's lack of presence was answer enough - and yet, they could tell that Mark and Helen were too calm for it to be that bad.

They were Shadowhunters, life was full of injuries and missed family moments.


	7. Of Beginnings and Tragedies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright so forewarning this chapter is kind of sad. It was a difficult one for me to write. I also think that after this chapter I will start to diverge a bit more from canon.

Helen was sixteen, and at the moment she was sitting in a rocking chair with an infant settled in her arms. Eleanor was napping in bed, she did that a lot anymore, in the last few months. At first Helen had thought this last pregnancy was just hard on Eleanor - and it had been. She'd been sicker throughout it than Helen remembered her being in any of the others. Mom had been on bed rest for the last three months of the pregnancy and then she'd spent large portions of each day in the four months since giving birth in bed, too.

Eleanor had never been this fragile before. Helen tried to pretend it wasn't strange, for the youngest of them. Helen took on more and more duties in the institute, to take the weight off of her mother's shoulders while she tried in vain to recover. Tonight wasn't much different than any other, Andrew was out hunting with Katerina, most of the little ones were asleep already. Helen finally rose from the rocking chair and settled the baby - Octavian was his name - in his cradle. And for a moment, Helen stood in the door way, watching Eleanor sleep.

Helen didn't pray, Shadowhunters, they weren't really religious people. The Blackthorns were no more religious than most - in fact, perhaps less. Helen had memorized passages of the bible as did so many of them, but they did not call to her the way they did mundanes. These passages were important to Shadowhunters, they were in some twisted way a manual that clarified the words of the Angel Raziel. But the God of the bible was not Helen's god - and she knew that any prayer from her fell on deaf ears. The Angel did not listen to them, not on such petty requests as this.

But for a moment, Helen allowed herself to hope that someone was listening. Hope that someone would hear her quietly asking for Eleanor to be allowed to recover this time, hopeful for just a little more time with their mother.

The little ones, they needed their mom still.

Helen didn't know what was wrong with Eleanor, but the Silent Brother's came every so often to check on her, to try and help her. But when they left nothing ever changed. Eleanor was ever the same - fragile seeming. Almost transparent.

Helen forced herself to turn away retreating across the hall and down a bit, to where Mark's room was. He was reading, Helen wasn't surprised. Her brother didn't look up as she crossed the room and sat on the floor beside the chair he was in.

Mark knew he didn't have to. Knew it was just the presence of not being alone that Helen wanted more than anything. It wasn't unusual for one to seek solace in the other's presence, even if no words were shared at all. There had been a time where they always acknowledged one another. But as they aged, as they grew up, they had begun to recognize when the other didn't need words so much as to not be alone.

"May I?" Helen broke the silence first, gesturing towards something on his shelf.  
"Go ahead." Almost without looking up. He'd told her before that she didn't need permission to read the books there, still she asked to be polite, he knew.

Helen opened the book across her lap quietly, giving her mind something to do in a desparate attempt to still its racing.

And that was how Andrew found them something like an hour later. "You two are still up?" Near-identical blond heads jerks up, and near identical pairs of bluegreen eyes met the identical eyes of their father.

"Yeah." Helen broke the stillness first, leaning a little against Mark's legs. "I couldn't sleep and Mark hasn't thrown me out yet." She shrugged. "Anything happen tonight?"

"Not really. Didn't find what we went out seeking, unfortunately."

Helen shrugged. There wasn't much to say about that. It was unfortunate, but it would come back if it would, or it'd disappear forever. Demons sometimes returned to their dimension without explanation. Or perhaps a different Nephilim had found it first. Probably they would never know for sure.

"Morning comes early you two. Don't forget that."  
"Yeah, I know." Helen shrugged. "We'll get to bed soon."

Andrew left then, presumably to check on Octavian and Eleanor. Helen's shoulders slumped forward slightly when they were alone again. She wasn't surprised when she felt Mark's feather light touch on her shoulder. She straightened up slightly, a shift in poise that said 'I'm fine' even though they both knew she wasn't. At least not really.

"Enjoying your book?" Helen asked in a cheerful tone.  
"Yeah. It's nice." He spent a moment explaining the loose plot of it with Helen nodding along.

"Alright I think I'm gonna at least try to sleep now." Helen said in a quiet voice.  
"Probably a good plan." Mark said mildly. "... I should put the book down and do the same."  
"Yeah... dad was right about that much at least." Mornings came early around here.

Sleep came slowly despite the late hour.

* * *

  
Days passed in a blur. Helen and Mark hunted together often with Katerina in place of their father, who preferred to stay with Eleanor more often than not, anymore. Mark was young to be out on the streets, but their trainer certainly preferred it being the both of them if they were taking Andrew's place.

They preferred it too. The first hunt had been a strange, uncomfortable affair. The after the second or third time they went out together, the pattern of it all was mastered easily enough.

Tonight was stranger than usual though, because Katerina had stayed behind at the Institute. So Helen and Mark were alone together.

"Nervous?" He asked.  
"No. Just... thinking, soon enough this will be the norm. May as well get an early start."

Mark made a noise that was probably a restrained laugh. "So do we have a target or is it just a patrol?"

"Standard patrol." Helen said evenly. "Katerina suggested we go up through toward that one night club the Night's Children hang out at, and then cut towards the Seelie entrance until we cross the Pack territory there."

Mark nodded. "That'll keep us busy a while."  
"Yeah, but I think it was supposed to." Probably. Though it meant that Andrew would be on his own making sure all the kids were put to bed and such. He was capable, of course, he was their dad.

"We're definitely not here to flirt with Andre." Mark sounded exasperated.  
"I'm not flirting. I'm gathering information." Helen tossed her hair across one shoulder and spent a moment talking with the wolf. Their chatter ended in the wolf kissing her temple and then gesturing towards Mark.

Helen giggled. "Yeah, we should keep going. Thank you for the warning about the rumors though."

Andre nodded. "Be careful tonight."

"I'm a Shadowhunter, Dre, careful isn't really in my vocabulary."

"So what was that about?" Mark asked when she rejoined him a moment later.   
"Rumor about a rogue vampire." Mildly. "Remember that dead Nephilim from a few weeks ago? I had Andre helping me look into a few rumors I heard."

"Does he know you're using him to do Nephilim dirty work?"  
"He offered. He can get into a few places I can't without drawing attention." Defensively.

"Is he going to be another Elizabeth?"  
Helen bristled slightly. "Lizzy was a sweetheart," She defended.  
"'Lizzy' broke your heart in pieces."  
"Her parents didn't give her a choice. They made her break up with me and then leave the institute. Flipped because Lizzy liked a girl." And a half-faerie. But their biggest thing had been the girl thing.

"And Rylan?"  
"Rylan..." She shook her head, laughing. "He was a sweet heart really, but that wasn't ever serious."  
"And Dre is?"  
"I don't know. I'm sixteen he's almost eighteen. And a pack member, who knows what's going to happen. But he's a nice guy, I like spending time with him."

Mark shook his head. "Just be careful, okay? Wolves are rough handed sometimes."

Helen glared at him for a moment, before rolling her eyes. "New wolves maybe. Dre is a born wolf, you know. He's had years to practice." She sighed. "But I'll be careful."

"That's all I ask."

Helen resisted the urge to point out to him, too, that they were Shadowhunters and careful wasn't really their thing. Mostly because her gaze caught on an odd shape in the darkness.

Helen moved towards it, concentrating the whole of her attention on the shape, the discussion they'd been having entirely forgotten in the face of what Helen knew was a demon. It turned out to be a ravener - an odd thing to find singularly. Raveners weren't very smart, they were trackers. Hm...

"Ravener." She warned, gesturing at it and bringing Mark's attention to it.   
"Well that does explain what you are homing in on."

The pair of them made short work of the ravener demon.

When they returned to the institute late that night there was a carriage in front of the building, and Helen couldn't help the sense of foreboding upon seeing it. It was a sign that therew as a silent brother inside. A sign that something had gone wrong while they were out.

It was both a shock and not to make it up into the family hall without running into anyone at all. But there, of course, was Brother Zachariah standing beside Andrew. They were clearly mid-conversation. It was strange seeing Brother Zachariah with his hood down - perhaps because he was so shockingly normal.

Okay normal was perhaps wrong. There were runes on either side of his face, and his eyes and mouth were closed - were always closed. But not sewn shut. He had dark hair with a streak of bright silver. It was... strange. Helen and Mark said nothing, stilling where they were on one side of the hallway, unwilling to uninterrupt the conversation, but also unwilling to back away and pretend they didn't know what they were looking at.

Zachariah acknowledged the pair with a simple nod as he glided passed, but said nothing. Helen couldn't help feeling slightly uncomfortable with that, but she had nodded back politely.

The siblings stood together, and Helen at least watched their father with a quietly knowing gaze. "Well?" She asked in a hesitant tone.

Andrew shook his head slightly. "No major change." Andrew assured her in a quiet voice.

Helen nodded. That wasn't a bad thing, so that was good. But it wasn't a good thing either.

"How'd the hunt go?"  
"Quiet except for a ravener. And a little information on the killing a couple weeks ago. Nothing solid yet."  
"Your informant still looking into it?"  
Mm. Helen nodded. "I was thinking I might reach out to another one if I can get a hold of him."  
"Just be careful. Playing in the downworld is risky business."  
"I think every single person I've spoken to tonight has told me to be careful." Helen sounded amused, if irritated. "I would have thought you of all people might remember 'careful' really isn't in a Nephilim's vocabulary." A pause. "Anyway, I'm going to take a shower." Helen finally broke away from their cluster. 

* * *

None of them talked about it, not really. No one mentioned how Eleanor had slowly become brittler and brittler. None of them acknowledged the inevitable slipping up on them. There was no point, really. Talking about it didn't make it easier.

Helen spent most evenings reading to the kids, and if it wasn't her, it was Mark. After they went to bed Helen and Mark went on a patrol several times a week. On nights they weren't patrolling they sat together in the Library, or one of the bedrooms and talked about anything or went over languages or anything at all to distract them from the disaster that was slowly taking place in the next room.

There was almost always a Silent Brother around any more. Helen tried not to think about it, tried not to consider the fact that in reality they were just trying to keep Eleanor comfortable. At this point it was considered to be too late.

It was a warm evening, and Helen was sitting up on the roof. She'd been up here for a few hours. It was strange being alone given how many people were permanently in the institute. But Helen wasn't complaining. She sat near the edge on the side closest to the water, listening to the waves with her eyes shut.

"Helen. You should come see mom." There was an odd note to Mark's voice. Helen couldn't help the deep frown as she turned to face him where he stood. "Come on." He urged, holding a hand out towards her.

Helen was surprised by the gesture, but took the offered hand and went with him down the stairs and through the halls to the bedroom that so often had a silent brother in attendence. Today was no different - though she could not name which Brother this one was off the top of her head. Eleanor was perhaps too-still despite the fact that her eyes were open.

Helen and Mark ended up settled on one side of the bed, Julian was sitting with Andrew on the other side. Livia was hugging Tiberius who looked slightly uncomfortable - probably because she was crying, and he couldn't really fix it.

"Sorry I was late." In a soft voice.  
Eleanor's expression shifted slightly, it was a smile, fragile as anything these days. "It's alright." Breathy, it lacked the warmth that Helen was used to. "I know this isn't easy."

Helen said nothing to that, taking one of Eleanor's delicate hands in between her own. They were cool, they usually were any more.

"I always loved you and your brother, you know." Eleanor continued stubbornly, despite having to pause and clear her throat to bring back some volume. "I always loved you all so very much. All of my beautiful children." Helen knew what Eleanor was trying to say, at least mostly. "Don't forget that, okay? Don't let anyone treat you like you aren't as good as the others." There was another long pause. "And take care of them, the little ones need you. Take care of each other, all of you."

"We will, mom." Helen managed to get out around the knot in her throat. "Love you."

It was goodbye, if not tonight then too soon. They all knew it. It didn't make things any easier, but they knew it. Helen wasn't sure how long she sat there holding Eleanor's hand in her own, resting her head against Mark's shoulder, taking strength from her brother's presence at her side. At some point Dru had crawled into Andrew's lap.

It was nice, being all together, even if there was a heavy weight of knowing that it would probably be the last time. At some point Helen unwound from Mark long enough to retrieve the book she'd been reading to the kids before bed, and spent a little while reading aloud, alternating with Mark when she found her throat too tight to keep going.

Eventually Andrew left to tuck Dru into bed, and Helen went downstairs to make up a bottle for Octavian. When she returned the twins had gone, though Julian remained. Mark was holding Octavian, so Helen handed him the bottle before sitting back down.

Andrew returned a bit later, and didn't seem terribly surprised to see that three of his children were still sitting there around their mother. He didn't comment on their quiet gathering, instead silently taking his place beside Julian again. Some time later saw Octavian fed and burped and eventually passed on to be held by Andrew.

It was around two am when it happened. Julian had fallen asleep in Andrew's lap, Octavian had been put back in his cradle. Mark was half asleep leaning against Helen even as she was dozing against him. Intertwined just so, so that neither of them would fall.

Between one heartbeat and the next something happened. Something changed. It was a peaceful moment, turned suddenly awful by the silence. Too still, too quiet. Helen sat up fully, suddenly very aware of the lack, of one less sound of breathing in the deadly silent room. Andrew saw her start forward, and realized what she already knew all at once. "Ave Atque Vale." Helen and Andrew managed in nearly the same breath, though Andrew finished with her name and Helen simply with mom.

"I'll..." Her voice was a shockingly hoarse whisper. "I'll summon the brothers back." They had gone at some point in the evening, when it seemed that tonight would pass in quiet, in famlial love. Helen could hardly breath, suddenly intensely claustrophobic in this room with her mother laying too still.

She fled, Mark followed a moment after. He made no move to comfort her, and said nothing as she entered the office. The request was a shortly written note, there was no point in mincing words. But once it was sent Helen just sort of slid down the wall to sit on the floor, staring numbly forward. Mark joined her a moment later.

Nothing was said, but nothing needed to be. She turned and embraced him, hiding her face in his shoulder. She felt his head rest against her, felt him leaning on her even as she crumbled on him. The knot in her throat bloomed into stinging in her eyes and Helen didn't fight it this time, didn't swallow it down in an attempt to salvage her pride.

Not with Mark, and it was only Mark here now. No one would judge her for crying. For a moment she didn't have to be a Shadowhunter, strong as steel. For tonight, just for tonight, she could be a little girl who'd just lost her mother all over again.

And that was good. Because at that exact moment, that was all Helen could manage to be. The sobs were quiet, smothered in a desperate attempt not to draw attention to herself despite the relative privacy of the location.

By the time morning came Helen wouldn't have been able to tell you when the Silent Brothers got there, or how she and Mark came to move from their father's office to Helen's room. She wouldn't have been able to tell anyone when the two of them transitioned from clinging to one another crying to sleeping in a fitful doze.

The funeral was held the next day at sunset. It was a hellish affair, though Helen would never say such. All of them dressed in white with scarlet runes of mourning emborided at the hems and cuffs. Helen spoke briefly, but only very briefly, finding it difficult to keep her voice clear enough for those who had gathered. The words said by other were only a buzz to Helen, and she didn't really intake the words of grief, nor the ones of healing.

Life would go on, it would have to. Helen knew that much. They were Shadowhunters, after each death, life had to go on. But as the pyre started to burn, Helen thought perhaps the whole would would burn with it. Certainly it felt like most of her world was burning. Dru had her face buried in Helen's abdomen, sobbing brokenly. The twins were holding each other, Julian was clinging to Emma, and Mark was holding Tavvy for the moment.

They were all clustered together, their broken little family. Helen had no idea how they were going to piece themselves back together around the gaping hole that Eleanor's absence left. But they would have to, somehow.

Helen's eyes met Mark's over Julian's head, and from that she took strength. Drawing from her brother strength that she couldn't find in herself just now. Helen had to wonder if he did the same with her. His eyes seemed to say yes. His expression had a serenity to it now that it had lacked moments before.

Helen wouldn't try to explain it. But she didn't really have to.

Sometimes though, she wondered if that strength, that drawing from one another was in essence that Parabatai bond that so many talked about from time to time. Later maybe, she'd think on it later. When the smell of smoke and the sting of tears wasn't quite so fresh.


	8. Treading on Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helen and Andrew are somewhat on the fritz, also an event that is actually central to the plot takes place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the, ah, climax of this chapter seems a little unexpected. It has been hinted at, but did just sort of 'happen' this chapter. I will admit that particular event will be in and out of focus here because it's intended to be a long(ish) running plot point that Helen doesn't get to have her hands on all the time because she's only just 17 in this chapter. 
> 
> For those asking~ Aline can be expected to appear next chapter. I'm so sorry this chapter took so long to get up, hopefully the next one will come faster.

Healing was a slow process, and Helen didn't really think that they were ever going to entirely grow around the hole that Eleanor's death had left. But by a few months later life had at least attempted to return to normal. Today marked the fourth month since she was finally taken from them. Helen was wrapped around a cup of coffee, alone in the kitchen when Andrew joined her.

"Morning." Her voice was light, but somewhat distracted.

Andrew seemed to pick up on this immediately. "Something on your mind?"

"You... could say that."  
"Want to talk about it?"

They didn't have heart to hearts often. Helen tried to ignore the slightly wary look he was giving her. Her gaze dropped to the cup her hands were wrapped around. "Mark and I, we were considering becoming Parabatai in earnest." She said slowly. "I know you said... and we've said, too, that a rune doesn't make the relationship, and that we don't need a rune to define us, but it's..." Her voice trailed off, clearly having issues deciding what she wanted to say.

"We've been training as if we were parabatai already. Katerina says we work together better than some parabatai she's seen before, even." She shook her head again. "And I know, some people are going to frown because we're both part-faeries, but we understand each other. We work extremely well together." And he was the only one she could really lean on.

"You don't have to defend yourself to me, Helen."  
"Don't I?" She almost-snapped. "You're still giving me that look. That wary one you usually only give when you don't think I'm paying attention. The one that says after all this time you still don't know what to do with me. Why is that?"

Helen saw the surprise in his face, saw the shadow in his eyes, and she knew she wasn't being fair. She knew that she was pushing and it wasn't fair because they were all still hurt. She knew that she should back off and let it go. And she almost did but instead, she went on. "Do you see her in me? Is that it? Because that's not fair, I don't even remember her. All I really remember is you and mom - Eleanor. Nothing before that is more than a hazy blur. Do you wish you hadn't let us stay? Do you resent that we exist? Do you hate me as much as everyone out there?"

"They don't hate you."

"You aren't answering the question." Exasperated and upset. Helen's hands had uncoiled from her coffee cup and were set flat on the table. "And don't start quoting that poem as if it answers everything." Pausing thoughtfully for a moment. "Or, I guess it does."

"Helen-"

"What?" She snapped, finally jerking her gaze up from the table to lock with his. There was a fierceness in her gaze. Daring him to tell her she was wrong. Daring him to, for once, tell the truth.

"I see I'm interrupting something." Katerina was leaning against the door frame, an odd expression on her face.

"No, you aren't. I was just leaving." Helen rose mechanically from the table and put her coffee cup in the sink.

"Helen wait-"  
She hesitated in the door frame, and then shook her head. "Morning run. If I don't stay on schedule I'll lose my edge."

"You two on the fritz?" Katerina asked, carefully, eyeing Andrew who looked somewhat defeated.  
"Apparently. I wasn't aware of this fact until she blew up. It started out easy enough, her mentioning she and Mark are seriously considering becoming Parabatai, I'm not sure how it went so incredibly down hill."

"She'd mentioned that much to me. I told her it was between her and Mark but if they were sure I'd set the process in motion."

"She was extremely defensive when she told me, all I said was that she didn't have to defend herself to me and she just kind of..."  
"Ah. Well, I know you mean well, Andrew. And she knows that too."  
"Does she? Any more it seems... not so much."

"It's just been hard on her." Katerina murmured. "It's been hard on all of us."

That much was true at least. Still, it didn't make him feel much better. "I'll try to talk to her when she gets back."  
"You probably should. Nip this in the bud before it festers any more than it has."  
"I just wish I'd known it was there in the first place."

Mm. "We do what we can. Wishes are mostly pointless."

Andrew knew that, but it didn't really make him feel better. Not when it was his eldest daughter that he'd missed something major about. She was, in many ways, a saving grace of the last few weeks. Without Helen stepping up in so many little ways there was no way things would flow as well as they did here.

* * *

She stood alone on a portion of the beach some considerable distance from the Institute itself, listening to the waves and watching them crash against the sand a little way away. It was one of the first cold days of the season.

Helen turned away from the water finally, letting her attention turn to a cluster of rocks - she almost turned away. Almost began to return home. But something caught her eye, a gleam of red against the sand. Without really thinking, Helen approached it, hand settling on the Seraph Blade's handle.

Helen went cold, when she made it around the cluster of rocks. A body - Faerie, she knew instantly. Gentry, from the looks of it, though Helen couldn't be sure of her court. She crouched beside the body carefully, taking a moment to study the injuries.

Helen pulled out her cell phone, taking several images of the body exactly as it lay, and then she dialed her father's number.

"Oh, Helen, hey I wanted-"  
"It needs to wait." Helen's voice cut across his in an act of rudeness that she normally would never have committed. "I'm standing on the beach with a Faerie body. She's been dead a few hours. ... I don't think she died here, there's not enough blood." Not considering the injuries at least.

There was silence on the line. "And you're sure it's something we should get involved in instead of leaving to the Court?

"Given there is a Mnemosine rune etched into her chest, I'm going to go with it's our problem."  
There was another long silence. "Where exactly are you?"  
Helen gave directions rapidly.

"Alright stay there, Katerina, John and I will be there soon. ... If you can get ahold of your faerie friend, now would be a good time."  
"Yessir."

They hung up then, and Helen concentrated hard as she wrapped her hand around the amethyst pendent. Faolan had told her before she could use it to summon him if she were in dire need. Had taught her exactly what she needed to do to use that functionality. She'd never told her father - letting him believe she had her "faerie friend" in her phone. It was better that way, really.

It didn't take Faolan long to get there - he was there sooner than the people of the institute.

"Don't touch her until the others get here." She said, in a tone that made it a polite request. "There are runes on her, the Institute will have have to investigate this death."  
"She is of the court and should be tended to by our kind." Faolan's tone was dismissive.

"And she will be turned over to the court for proper burial rites." Helen promised. "But we have to look over her body first, we need to know what was done and make a record of the incident so it can be investigated. You know me, I'll work with you and we'll do what we can together, but I need you to help me help the Faerie."

He didn't look pleased, but nodded slightly. "I will accompany the body wherever you take it." He said flatly.

She nodded. "I'll make arrangements for that." Helen promised in an earnest tone.

Shortly thereafter the adults arrived. If they were surprised to have been beaten by one of the Court, they didn't show it.

"I wasn't aware that your Faerie informant was a seelie Knight." Andrew arched an eyebrow slightly.  
"Father, this is Faolan of the Seelie court." Helen kept her voice level. "Faolan, Andrew Blackthorn, head of the institute."  
"We're aquainted." Faolan murmured in a tone that likely would have been amused were the situation not so grave. "But I appalud your polite introduction little Helen."

If the semi-affectionate reference bothered her, she didn't show it, keeping a carefully level expression as she motioned for the adults to follow her and approach the fallen Faerie woman.

With one finger she indicated the lines of the partially destroyed mnemosine rune. "There may be other runes on her, I haven't disturbed the body any, only taken pictures."  
"You did the right thing." It was John Carstairs who assured Helen of this. "This isn't the sort of thing a little girl should have a part in."  
"I'm not a little girl." Helen's tone was flat, but her eyes flashed in annoyance.

"Faolan will be attending to the body while she is in our custody." Helen mentioned in a tone that made it clear it wasn't a question. "That is the price of his assistence in the investigation."

"Absolutely-" John began, only to be cut off by Andrew.  
"It's a perfectly reasonable request. Thank you Helen, for negotiating with him."  
Helen smiled a faction at Andrew. "He also requests that she be released to the court after we have learned and documented all we can from the body."

Andrew nodded. "Of course."

Faolan looked somewhat appeased by the exchange.

John Carstairs didn't look terribly pleased, but didn't voice any further arguments.

"So, uh. There's an insight rune here on the back of her neck." Katerina's voice came from where she was crouched beside the body. "And something on her lower back, but it's not... an Angelic rune as far as I can tell. Demonic, probably. ... Really weird to find in combination with the other two." A pause. "Helen can I hold your phone since you've been taking pictures with it already, I want to get a few more before we move her."

"Okay." Helen handed Katerina the phone, and the woman flipped through the existing photos before taking a few more.

An hour later saw them in a portion of the Institute that downworlders weren't often invited into. Helen was standing with Faolan on one side of the table that the woman was laying on, the adults had all stepped out - Andrew intending to summon the Silent brothers to examine the body. Helen had taken a few more pictures, Katerina was with the other kids, training, Helen thought.

She wished she'd had the guts to ask Mark to be sent in here with her, but... she hadn't. Not wanting to force him to look at the Faerie woman. Her injuries were grotesque, but as far as she could tell, they weren't demonic. Helen had voiced as much - Katerina had immediately agreed with her. John had seemed annoyed that she was being allowed to have a part in the handleing despite her underaged status.

Helen pulled her phone back out, sending a message to both Malcolm Fade and Tessa. She didn't expect Tess to respond, really, but she felt better sending messages to her than to Malcolm, even though Fade was the High Warlock of Los Angeles.

"So is there a plan of action in place or...?" Faolan's voice trailed off as Helen looked at him.

"Well, Father summoned the Silent brothers so they can examine the injuries and runes. I sent a message to a couple of warlocks so we can get their opinion on the demonic rune and what it may have been for. Unfortunately we're waiting, now."

Not long later Andrew came in, escourting a pair of silent brothers - one of them was Brother Zachariah, Helen recognized immediately.

"I already sent a message to Mr. Fade, by the way... and miss Gray, but you know how she is."  
Andrew looked surprised, but nodded in thanks. "I'll go and wait for him then, could you show the Brothers what you and Katerina found on the body."

Helen nodded serenely, though she swallowed sharply as she turned her gaze back to the Faerie woman. "Someone tried to hide the runes." She explained, approaching the table. "they didn't do such a good job though, if you look for them. This one is a mnemosine rune." Helen indicated the edges of the rune, just visible around the cut through it." A pause. "Katerina found an insight rune on the back of her neck."

The brothers gave little indication that they had seen or heard her explanation, but when she had finished, they began their own examination of the body. Eventually Malcolm Fade made an appearance, though Tessa did not, as Helen feared she wouldn't.

Eventually the three had finished examining the body and making whatever notes they were going to. ... What their conclusion was, no one told Helen, but the body was released into Faolan's care.

The Faerie left, and Helen pestered her father for information, but he waved her off, saying that John Carstairs was right, and she really didn't need to worry about it.

It was late that evening when Helen found herself half cornered by Andrew again, and she regarded him with a wary gaze. He sighed.

"We need to talk, Helen."  
"I don't agree, really." She hedged. "But I'm listening." Her voice was carefully controlled.

"I know this has been hard for you." He began, slowly. "It's been hard for all of us."  
"This isn't about it being hard."   
"Please let me finish." Andrew's voice was a little firm. "I've never resented you, Helen, not you or your brother. You've always been welcome here. I've done the best I can to raise you as I have the others. I do love you Helen it's just..." He was quiet a moment, studying her expression. Helen was still regarding him with a carefully controlled face.

"It's just what? You see her in me?"   
"Sometimes." Andrew admitted, finally. "Sometimes you turn just so and..."  
"Am I like her?"

Sometimes the woman that Andrew implied existed there stood in such strange contrast with the woman of Helen's memories. Her mind flickered back to the poem that Andrew resorted to whenever they asked about the woman who had mothered them. But the lines of the poem didn't match Helen's memory - and it didn't make sense.

"Not really. You have a gentle heart, like your brother. There's nothing wrong with you Helen."

But wasn't there? Obviously there had to be something, if he saw this woman in her, whom he hated so very much. She'd tried, over the years, to move more like Eleanor, like Livia, like Emma's mother. It hadn't really worked - she still had that soundless grace that left Katerina staring at her sometimes.

"So Parabatai, hm?" Andrew seemed ready to change the topic before it got any deeper into the topic of Helen's mother.

"Mark and I haven't really decided yet. We kind of keep waffling on it." Helen admitted, shyly. "We, mm, we kind of want to though."

"Well, it's something you should be more than 'kind of' sure on." Andrew admitted.   
"I know. That's why we haven't gone through with it yet." She shrugged, a little. "Guess I'm a little worried about what the Clave will think of it."

"You shouldn't." Mildly. "It's not really any of the Clave's concern, if you choose to bond as parabatai. Try not to waffle too long though, you're getting a little old."


	9. Of Parabatai and Meetings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I apologize for the wait and for the fact that this chapter is kind of underwhelming tbh, sorry ahead of time.

The  Faerie woman's death warranted investigation, it was something the adults focused on, and Helen and Mark kept in mind while they did routine patrols. Helen had put out minor details to several of her downworld contacts, and had carefully pulled what information she could from Faolan about the woman who had died. She'd shared the information with those actively investigating the murder, though it hadn't seemed terribly helpful in the long run.  
  
It had been a week since Helen found the body on the beach. In that week she had dreamed of it repeatedly, and in dreaming she had been reminded of the images she'd seen as a ten year old so many years ago, images brought on by the power of Angelic runes taken on the skin too young. She had told Mark about this, he'd frowned, and they'd talked in circles about how rare true dreams were among Nephilim, and then they'd gone back to training.  
  
They hadn't spoken of it since. What they had spoken about repeatedly was becoming Parabatai. They'd spent hours discussing it, hours training together, fighting together. Hours and hours working together and considering carefully what being Parabatai would mean for them. But the end result was that they didn't think anything would really change, except suddenly the Clave would have to recognize the way they worked together as a pair, and wouldn't be able to split them up under most any circumstances.  
  
It would grant Helen a delay before she needed to do her travel year, because Mark was younger than her, but that was really the only thing that would change. Things had been peaceful in the house. She and Andrew hadn't gone rounds again, though this was at least partially because Helen saw no point in making the same arguments she already had more or less lost.   
  
"I see a lily on thy brow,  
With anguish moist and fever-dew,  
And on thy cheeks a fading rose  
Fast withereth too.   
  
I met a lady in the meads,   
Full beautiful - a Faery's child  
Her hair was long, her foot was light  
And her eyes were wild..."  
  
"I wish you wouldn't recite that." Mark said automatically, barely looking up from what he was reading. "Father does it quite often enough."  
  
"Sorry." Helen answered automatically. "I didn't even realize I was."  
"Again." Mark added, calmly. "You really shouldn't let it haunt you. It's just a poem written by some silly mundane."  
  
"Yeah, you're right." But Helen couldn't entirely help it. Hearing it from her father so often left her going over the lines of the poem again and again in her head - and obviously sometimes out loud - trying to puzzle out how the lines of the poem matched with the faint memories of her mother she had.  
  
"Helen..."  
"Hm?"  
"Whatever it means... whatever he knows or remembers about our mother, it doesn't matter."  
"How can you-"  
Mark looked up from what he was reading then, and Helen cut herself off to let him finish. "It doesn't matter because it doesn't change who we are-Who you are. It doesn't change anything at all. We are Blackthorns. We are Nephilim, and Nephilim blood is dominant. Vague might-have-beens about our mother don't really mean anything next to that."  
  
"Yeah, I guess you're right." Finally Helen agreed with him.  
"And I think we should just make the announcement at dinner tonight, because basically everyone knows already."  
  
Helen laughed softly at the slight sideways leap in conversation, but nodded. "We probably should at that." Stop messing around and just get the gears in motion for that. It was pretty important, if they intended to go through with it at least.   
  
"Thanks, by the way."  
"Any time."  
  
Because Helen sometimes needed to be reminded that dwelling on things didn't make them better, and would, of course, only make her feel worse. And really, Mark was the only one who heard it when she started in on those circles, so it had to be him who chased her away from them.  
  


* * *

  
  
It had been a month since they made their announcement to the whole institute. Within that month they'd met with Clave representatives and undergone testing, all the normal sorts of things that the Clave did when preparing a Parabatai set to go through with their ceremony.  
  
A month, it was faster than most. They were supposed to train together a minimum of a year after announcing their intentions, but Katerina vouched for the fact that they'd been training together and discussing it longer than that already. The Clave had accepted her statements and allowed them to move forward faster than usual. It was for the best, honestly, it meant that they could be done with the ceremony before Helen was too old.  
  
Helen, privately, wasn't sure either her father or her uncle were ever going to forgive the two of them for this. Both stood stiffly some distance apart from one another. She was beginning to regret having gone along with Mark's idea to use the two of them as their witnesses.  
  
He seemed to be under the impression that their father and uncle just needed to talk and make up after whatever the fight they'd had was over. Helen had gone along with it, thinking it would be nice if their family got on a little better, and thinking that Andrew could use the support of his brother who by all accounts he'd once been very close to.  
  
Arthur wasn't around often, and given the way he was regarding the two of them, she couldn't really fathom why he'd said yes in the first place. Helen kept a bright expression though as she met Mark's gaze and tilted her head slightly to one side.   
  
"It's time, please enter the rings."  
  
The mental voice was familiar, and that put Helen at ease in a way that the terseness of their witnesses did not. Helen stepped into one ring, and Mark into the other, their attention focused on one another. Somewhere beyond them Arthur and Andrew settled into the specified places for them.  
  
The ceremony was, honestly, a blur - performed on instinct and heart alone. They recited their vows loudly enough for the entire room to hear over the slight crackling of the flames that surrounded them. Then the runes were done and suddenly the flames were gone.   
  
After the ceremony was a reception of sorts. A small party, because the Clave celebrated pairings like Helen and Mark, even if they simultaneously wanted to snub their nose at them. That was fine, Helen had long known she wouldn't really get their approval.  
  
"I don't think it worked." Mark was saying, watching Andrew and Arthur almost pointedly avoid each other.  
"I noticed." Helen's voice was distracted.  
"You okay?" Concern colored his tone, seeming to note something she didn't say.  
  
"Yeah I've just... I need some air, I'll be back."  
  
Mark didn't follow her as she half-fled the room, not stopping until she was outside in the open air of Alicante. Helen hadn't been here many times, they were usually too busy taking care of the Institute - it was a lovely city, but she was a bit afraid of getting lost and not being able to find her way back, so she stayed not far from the door.  
  
Slow and steady breathing seemed to clear her head, calming the thundering in her ears. It was then, just before she intended to return that she heard someone come up behind her. Helen turned, and found herself regarding a smaller girl who seemed to be a little younger than her. The girl had black hair and dark eyes and there was something about her something... else. It took her a moment before her mind supplied what it was - Asian, of course. She had the same curve to her eyes that Brother Zachariah did when you saw beyond his hood.  
  
Helen decided not to share that, as the girl was already staring at her with wide eyes. "Is it true then? That you're a faerie? They say some of the Blackthorn children have Faerie blood... Do you remember anything about Faerie?"  
  
Helen sighed and raised one hand to brush a golden curl back behind her ear, exposing the pointed tip even more than usual to show her that yes, it was true. At that exact moment another woman appeared - quite obviously related to the girl in front of her. "Aline!" She sounded scandalized.  
  
"She's fine." Helen said automatically. "Really, I don't mind questions." A pause. "To answer the other question, no. I don't really remember anything about Faeire. I've been in the institute most of my life."  
  
"How many of you are..." She seemed to lose her train of thought, attempting to figure out a polite way to word the question given her mother's glare.  
  
"Part blooded? Two of us. The oldest of my younger siblings and I, he's the one I bonded to today." Tapping her new parabatai rune with one long finer. "My name is Helen. ... Blackthorn, but you figured that out already." Smiling a bit, wryly.   
  
"Oh! I'm Aline Penhallow and this is my mother Jia."  
"It's a pleasure to meet you both."  
  
"Helen are you coming back inside? Are you okay?" Mark's voice floated down the stairs before he actually became visible and saw that she was engaged in conversation. "Oh I see. You found something more interesting than us." He sounded put upon.  
  
She laughed. "Mark, this is Aline and Jia Penhallow."  
  
"Helen, Livia took my doll!" Drusilla sounded to be on the edge of tears.  
"... Unfortunately I've got to go deal with that. Again, it was a pleasure meeting you both." Dipping slightly in what was almost a curtsy Helen fled back into the house to sort out the youngest siblings.  
  
"I'da... gotten it." It wasn't like their dad was inside or anything, but no, Helen had to go handle it now herself. "She's like that sometimes, always running from one thing to the next. Forgets, occasionally to slow down.You're both welcome to come in if you'd like. Just don't mind the half dozen children running around."  
  
Pausing, and then when Mark started talking again it obviously wasn't to Jia or Aline. "Oh no. No you two are not adventuring around Alicante by yourselves. Shoo, back inside."  
"We weren't adventuring we were just wondering where you and Helen went." Julian defended himself.   
  
"Well you found me. Now go play, Helen's already back inside." Pausing again on the stairs. "Minor crash course, if they look to be under the age of 16 and have brown hair, it's probably a Blackthorn. That one was Julian, the blonde girl with him was Emma. ... Carstairs." So, not theirs. "One of the boys that is ours has black hair, but don't be surprised if he doesn't talk to you. Tiberius is like that. His twin sister is Livia, and the girl you heard a bit ago was Drusilla. ... Octavian is firmly glued to father, thankfully." Tripping over a toddler was no fun.  
  
"There are so many of you." Aline seemed surprised.  
"Yeah... I wasn't really exaggerating when I warned you about the half dozen children." Ah, no.  
  
He was a little surprised to have Aline and Jia actually follow him in, but well, he had offered. And honestly they weren't the only ones they hardly knew who'd gathered here parabatai, they were something of a big deal. It was easy to forget that in some ways - mostly because he and Helen had acted as if they were Parabatai for so long it didn't seem odd.   
  
Helen, for her own, was sitting off to one side when Mark and their newest guests came in. It didn't take long before Helen made eye contact with Aline and gestured toward an empty seat near her.   
  
A moment later Helen had retrieved a drink for herself and Aline, as well as moving one of the snack trays over to the coffee table near them - strategically closer to where Ty and Liv were playing, too.   
  
"You didn't have to..." Aline began, but paused at Helen's warm little smile.  
"No, I didn't. But I wanted to."   
  


* * *

  
  
"So... you hit it off pretty well with that Aline girl." Mark commented. They were home now, after having spent the night in Idris, they'd returned early the following morning. Mark and Helen were currently in the kitchen. Helen was making lunch forthe younger kids and Mark seemed to be enjoying teasing her.  
  
She shrugged. "I mean, I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I get along with everyone practically."  
  
Mark snorted. "You know what I meant."  
  
Helen stared at him for a moment before rolling her eyes. "Wasn't it you, like, three months ago or something warning me to be careful not to get my heart broken, what happened to that?" She shook her head. "Besides, what are the chances of me seeing her again anyway?"  
  
"I just meant that you seemed to like her. More than usual."  
"I was trying to be friendly. She had questions... but wasn't super rude about them."  
"Ahh." A pause. "So encouraging the polite questioning rather than giving her the impression that it didn't matter how she approached it?"  
"Exactly." A pause. "Though her mother was mortified."  
  
"I had noticed that." Mark sounded bemused, just slightly. "She was cute."  
"Not really your type." Bemused.  
"Does that mean she's yours?" Nudging her lightly.  
  
Snort. "Shush and go get the others will you?" Laughing to herself as she started serving lunch onto plates for everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's really more of a set up chapter that will bridge the story line together. Aaaand it sets up for Aline coming back in shortly. I promise, she does come back in after this. This chapter was really hard to write and I'm not sure why, to be honest. ... And I'm kind of at a crossroads for just how AU I want to send this fic. Sooo. Stay tuned, apparently!


	10. Of Dreams and Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo things heat up a little this chapter, nothing too graphically explained, I promise.

Within a few days things had gone back to normal, or at least, as close to normal as anything was after Eleanor died. If Andrew had been frustrated with his oldest children's decision to drag he and Arthur back together in one space - however temporarily - he never spoke of it.   
  
Mark let go of pressing Helen about the "cute Asian girl" after a short while too. And things were truly back to normal. Or they would have been, if the investigation about the Faerie woman's death hadn't gone completely cold. No hints, nothing pointing at who they could blame or how they could stop it from happening again.  
  
Not until another body was found - this one called in by Helen's pack allies. A young werewolf - male, and clearly tortured before dying. He'd had runes etched on his skin as well. Whether the runes were the direct cause of his death or the injuries were was completely up in the air. But it did set fire to the investigation - so to speak.  
  
Insight/Foresight. Mnemosine. A fortis rune. A stamina rune. And the same Demonic rune that had been found on Fae woman. This one had had many more drawn on it than the Faerie had, Helen couldn't imagine why, precisely. At least not at first.  
  
"You really shouldn't be bothering yourself with those." It was John Carstairs.  
  
Helen shrugged. "You keep saying that, and maybe you're right." Calmly. "But I'm not really a child anymore, John." Mildly. "I know that's hard for you to handle because you've known me since I was small, but... I'm older than Emma and Julian by a lot." Pointedly. "I'm not even a year off of being eighteen."  
  
Helen paused there a moment before continuing, "These are my allies who are bringing you information, these are my friends whose friends are dying. I'm the one whose ultimately accountable to them for not doing anything."  
  
"You aren't accountable to them, they're downworlders."  
  
"And protected by the Accords!" Helen snapped back. "Accords that are blatantly being ignored by someone who is literally torturing these people to death."  
  
John looked only slightly abashed by her sharp reaction. Andrew took that moment to enter, but before he could say anything John continued. "You may be right about that, but that doesn't make you accountable to them."  
  
"Well maybe it should." Helen retorted, keeping her blue-green eyes level on him. "Because maybe if we felt accountable to the people we're supposed to be protecting we'd do a better job."  
  
Helen's gaze dropped back down to the pictures in her lap, pushing back blonde curls as she did so.   
  
"Do you have any theories for the rune groupings?" Andrew asked her calmly, redirecting the conversation away from the argument that John and Helen had been having. "Since I know that's what you were looking into originally."  
  
"I do." Helen's voice was hesitant. "But I'm not sure... I'm not sure how likely it is."  
  
"Any theory at all would be something."  
  
"It almost looks like they're trying to create forsaken. ... Out of downworlders. Which is incredibly unlikely because downworlders obviously die too fast when angelic runes are applied. But I can almost... almost see the thought process here. Downworlders are stronger, faster, more durable. If they could be made into forsaken...." Shaking her head. "It would explain the supplemental runes, too. Fortitude, stamina... trying to make them stronger. Trying to make them withstand the unbearable."  
  
"Is this all from looking at the runes, or from one of your dreams?" His voice was not unkind.   
  
"Both."   
  
"Helen..."  
  
"I've been dreaming of that Faerie woman marked up with runes since I was ten, Father." She watched Andrew flinch slightly. "It has to mean something."  
  
"Have you really?" It was John's wife, Cordelia who spoke up, sounding quite interested.   
  
"Mm." Helen nodded. "She was positioned the same way in the dream as I found her, and against similar looking rocks, even." Slowly. "It was surreal enough at the time that I seriously wondered if I was dreaming again."  
  
"When was the first time you dreamed of her?" Cordelia asked.  
  
"Delia, maybe you should leave it." John cautioned.  
  
"The night of my first runes." Helen responded in an even tone. She shrugged. "I didn't... I let myself be convinced it wasn't real at the time. But it kept resurfacing and then one day..." Shrugging. "I wish it hadn't."   
  
"Of course you do." The woman sounded sympathetic.   
  
"Okay, let's pretend a moment that it does mean something." Andrew finally said, bringing the conversation back to their original point. "What could they be gaining from a completely impossible task."  
  
"Well, no one's ever tried before." Helen said carefully. "It's possible they haven't decided it's impossible yet." She held up one hand to stop Andrew from breaking in. "I mean obviously you and I look at the chances of death if a rune is put on a downworlder and we know it's not possible. But we're also not the sorts of people who would be trying to create forsaken in the first place." Pointedly. "If someone didn't give a damn how many people died before they found what they were looking for... maybe they could find a combination of runes that did allow for a margin of usefulness as Forsaken or something else."  
  
"But why would they want to?" Was what Andrew finally said into the stillness.  
  
"That I don't know, any more than I know who could possibly be doing this or why they're using demonic runes, too."

* * *

  
  
Three days after their discussion Andre called in yet another attack, urging Helen to get there as quickly as possible. Helen and Mark ended up going by themselves leaving Katerina to send adults after them as soon as possible.  
  
When they got there, Helen found out why Andre had been so adamant about them getting there now - she was still alive. A young girl who couldn't have been more than fifteen or so. Her breathing was shallow and rapid, her heartbeat was weak.  
  
"Knife, I need a knife." Grimly, Helen made her request clear.  
  
"You can't kill her-" Andre hissed, horrified.  
  
"No. But I need something that isn't runed, I need to cut the Marks apart. It's... the only chance she has."  
  
"Here." Andre handed her a knife - steel, Helen thought. That was good. The Half-Faerie made short work of it, cutting through each Rune, deliberately disrupting them while keeping her wounds shallow enough not to threaten the girl's wellbeing any further.  
  
Mark looked decidedly pale by the time she was done. Helen gave him a sympathetic look. The peace between them was short lived though as Andrew and John finally arrived on the scene.  
  
"She's alive." Helen said shortly. "But barely. She's going to need a healer and a lot of luck."  
  
"What did you..."  
  
"I cut the runes. All of them." Quietly. "I'm not sure if we were soon enough." Breathing slowly. "If she survives this, then maybe we'll get some answers. But it's a big if at the moment."  
  
"By the angel, she's just a child." John's voice was surprised.   
"Younger than I am." Helen confirmed in a mild tone as she brushed lavender hair out of the girl's face.   
  
"What... is she?"  
  
"Warlock." Helen said without wavering. "The lavender is natural, no roots and her eyebrows match." Mildly. "There may be further marking but I didn't see it while looking for the runes."  
  
"If her school id is anything to go by, her eyes are wildly heterochromatic." Andre offered mildly. "And her name is Alyssa Fay."  
  
Helen took the id from Andre absently, to see what he meant. "Ah." Hm. "Violet and electric blue." Either further evidence of her Warlocks Marks or some serious contacts. "And fourteen years old." Damn, younger than Helen had originally believed.  
  
"We're not going to have a choice but to take her back to the institute and see about getting someone to look at her."  
  
Helen nodded. "Just... just try and remember she's young enough she may have very little idea of the shadow world, despite being a warlock." Her voice was careful. "We're going to have to be delicate with her, if she wakes up."  
  
"When she wakes up." Mark corrected, firmly. "She will, she has to."  
  
Helen smiled a fraction at Mark's assurance, though it was not her usual sort of bright smile. "I hope you're right."  
  


* * *

  
  
What Helen didn't really anticipate was that upon arriving at the institute she would meet the girl she'd originally chatted with in Alicante. Frowning, slightly. "I thought you were only sixteen?" Slowly.  
  
"Oh, I am." Aline fidgeted, looking a little uncomfortable. "But the Clave sent my parents here to assist with the investigation. Father was going to leave me to train in Alicante, but mom thought the time in an institute would be good for me." Mm. "She used to head the Beijing institute, so I'm not really surprised she thinks that."  
  
"She's probably right." A pause. "Do you guys have rooms yet?"  
  
"No." A masculine voice that could only have been Aline's father. "I see we've arrived at a bad time."  
  
"Third victim. She was found alive. I apologize that we're a bit disorganized at the moment. Our trainer, Katerina is probably upstairs with the children."  
  
"It's fine. ... One was found alive?"  
  
"A warlock girl. She's unconscious. Time will tell if we can get anything from her." Helen explained shortly. "I'd be glad to give you a full debrief, but I'd rather wait for my father to be finished settling her in and summoning the Brothers first." If only because adult Nephilim often had issues taking Helen at her word.   
  
"Sensible. I'm Patrick Penhallow. I see you're acquainted with my daughter already."  
  
"I am." Mildly. "My name is Helen Blackthorn. That's Mark." Tilting her head at the blond male who'd come up behind her. "And now I'll show you to rooms, we've got several set up. The Clave had mentioned they were sending people to assist, just not when they would arrive."  
  
"You seem rather aware of the institute's goings on." There was no malice in his tone, but a hint of disbelieving. Helen told herself it was just because of her age.  
  
"I may be only seventeen, but my father is a busy man. I attend to as much as I can to make things run more smoothly here. It hasn't been easy since my mother died. You might remember from your own travel years that institutes are often far more hectic than life in Alicante, and we tend to grow up faster out here." Her voice was level, calm. Her expression was unfailingly polite.   
  
Patrick didn't say anything further, clearly considering what she'd said for the moment. Helen would take it. "Miss Jia." Politely dipping her head at the older woman who joined them at that moment.   
  
"Mark, if you see father before I do let him know our Guests arrived safely. See if he can get any time away for a briefing in the library. And remind him that he should summon Fade along with the Brothers."  
  
"Of course." Mark vanished, seeming glad to have been given a task for once. Helen led the way up the stairs. Ah, pausing. "The sanctuary is through that door." Pointing, and then motioning for them to follow her again. "Down that hall is the library, my father's office, and the training and weapons rooms. There are labels on the doors." It made things easier, mostly. She led the way down one of the other halls. "And this entire hall of rooms is unoccupied and prepared, so you can arrange yourselves however you prefer."  
  
"That hall." Indicating it with a gesture. "Is where all of the family rooms are." Yes. "Ah, but this door on this hall is Katerina's room."   
  
"And Katerina is the trainer here?" Patrick asked.  
  
"Mhm. I'll take Aline to meet her in a bit, she can join Mark and I for practice, if she'd like."  
  
"Do you two patrol this evening?" Aline asked, hopefully.  
"We do, but you'll have to get your parents to say yes." Dryly. "I don't mind taking you out on patrol with us, but it's their call."  
  
"We'll discuss it." Firmly, from Jia.  
  
Aline nodded. "Okay."   
  
"Jia, Patrick. It's a pleasure. Though I do wish the circumstances weren't so grave."  Andrew had apparently managed to get away long enough to join them. "I do hope my daughter has been gracious."  
  
"She has been." Jia responded warmly. "She also mentioned a briefing in the Library?"  
  
Andrew nodded. "Will Aline be participating or should I release her and Mark to Katerina in the mean time?"  
  
"I want to hear this." Aline protested.  
  
Reluctantly her parents nodded. "She probably should. She's already expressing interest in joining the patrols."   
  
"Well, she's no younger than Mark. He and Helen have been patrolling together since they were sixteen and fourteen, if it makes you feel any better. She'll be fine."  
  
"I'll go and get the portfolio then." Helen said quietly. "And meet you all in the library?"  
  
Andrew nodded. "That would be good, yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't originally intend to bring Aline back this chapter, but the opportunity presented itself and I couldn't help but take it so I could let them start to build a friendship. I know two victims in one chapter is a bit much, but ending it after just the discussion on theories seemed too short to me sooooo I continued with the next phase.


End file.
